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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26143807">things that make it warm</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucigucci/pseuds/lucigucci'>lucigucci</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Arcana (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AFAB Asra (The Arcana), Abuse, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bird/Human Hybrids, Blood, Blood and Injury, Bondage, Boot Worship, Bottom Julian Devorak, Choking, Cloaca, Comfort/Angst, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Feathers &amp; Featherplay, Flashbacks, Gen, Grinding, Human/Monster Romance, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Julian Devorak Route - Reversed Ending, Julian Devorak's Route Spoilers, M/M, Male Pronouns for Asra (The Arcana), Masturbation, Mild Blood, Minor Injuries, Nonbinary Asra (The Arcana), Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rope Bondage, Self-Harm, Shapeshifting, Submissive Julian Devorak, Top Julian Devorak, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:06:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,611</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26143807</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucigucci/pseuds/lucigucci</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>(things that make it warm by cavetown)</p><p>After Julian sacrifices himself for Asra's apprentice, he is chained to a figment of the past in the Devil's world, lost and alone and tormented by visions of his past love. When the apprentice doesn't return, Asra goes searching for the doctor himself, and tries to fix what he finds. It's hard surviving in this new hellish landscape but it's easier when you have someone to depend on.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Asra &amp; Julian Devorak, Asra/Julian Devorak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>91</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Asra’s heart skips a beat when he opens the door. He should run back the way he came, and yet he is frozen in place, a marble statue more lifeless than the trees occupying the swamp outside. Distant ethereal music flavored with violin and accordion floats along the breezeless air.</p><p>There is a monster sitting at the bar a few feet away that is unsettlingly familiar. It is a humanoid crafted by an ethereal being who had only a vague idea of what a human ought to be, limited to sunbleached sticks and crows feathers. Its nose-- no, beak-- no, nose-- is long and hooked. Both its wings are folded behind its back and its scaly legs are crossed over the barstool. It drums its tarblack taloned fingers on the counter, as though in wait for a drink that never comes.</p><p>“I know you,” Asra whispers.</p><p>The thing turns its head. Both charcoal eyes widen in recognition, but the moment is gone to be replaced by a contemptible sneer. “Back again,” the creature says, and turns back to stare at the bar. “Weren’t you just here? My my, and I thought the Devil was organized.”</p><p>This isn’t right. This… this isn’t right, not at all. “I don’t understand,” Asra continues, and closes the tavern door, eyes roving over the odd figure at the bar. “It is you, isn’t it? This isn’t a dream?”</p><p>“This is the tightrope between nightmares and reality,” the monster replies with a squawking mirthless laugh.</p><p>“But--”</p><p>“Pull up a seat, darling. Stay for a drink. Let’s not delay the inevitable.”</p><p>“Ilya Devorak,” Asra murmurs.</p><p>A visible shudder runs through the animal’s body and it ruffles its feathers up. Asra takes a step forward. “So it is you,” he says. “Ilya, what happened to you? Is this the work of the Devil?”</p><p>“Oh, skip the pleasantries!” Julian roars.</p><p>“What are you talking about?”</p><p>Julian unfolds his legs so he can hunch over the bar, screwing his eyes shut. “Go on. Whatever you like. I can take it.”</p><p>Asra shakes his head. “I don’t understand. Is this where you have been for the past few years? Why haven’t you left? Pasha and Mazelinka are worried sick for you, and--”</p><p>“Gods, hurry it up. I want to drink in peace.”</p><p><em>This</em> insufferable self-sacrificing is all too familiar. Asra squares his shoulders and marches to the bar so he can hop up and sit on the counter directly across from the distressed Julian so he can stare him down. “I have hallucinations too,” Asra tells him softly. “The Devil has sent them after me. But I have never seen you before, not like this. I know this is real.”</p><p>Julian allows himself a weary glance up at Asra. “I have seen you,” he mutters.</p><p>“You have?”</p><p>“You are the Devil’s favorite. He sends you to perform the most torturous deeds.”</p><p>Asra’s heart drops. He wants to reach out, comfort Julian, reassure him, but he doesn’t want to startle him away, so Julian continues at a feverish pace. “Delicious insults, careful punishment-- but I confess my favorite visits are the intimate ones, when my yearning is stilled if only for a moment, and I wish you could come back, and wish you would never leave-- that’s part of your plan, isn’t it? Clever witch, always haunting the corners of my mind, creeping in--” He has to take a breath and when he does he shivers. Asra feels the chill settle across his shoulders. The creature sitting below him raises a trembling clawed hand from the counter to rest on Asra’s waist, so gentle that Asra might as well be made of sand. “What will it be today, then, my lamb? I am ever yours to take apart.”</p><p>There’s a lump in Asra’s throat now. He takes Julian’s claw in both his own hands and cradles it next to his face, bowing his head and closing his eyes. “I wish I could have saved you. Calamity-- you did this for her protection, didn’t you? Before Death took her away to their realm?”</p><p>Julian bites his lip and nods.</p><p>“I miss her too,” Asra tells him.</p><p>“You didn’t answer my question. I want to know what you intend to do with me.”</p><p>“I intend to help you, Ilya. I can guide you back to what’s left of Vesuvia proper, where Mazelinka and Pasha are staying, and I can help protect you from the visions.”</p><p>“You have a different scent,” Julian interrupts, and cocks his head to the side like a pigeon. “What happened to your jasmine perfume?”</p><p>Asra opens his eyes, bemused, to smile down at Julian. “I haven’t used that perfume in many years, Ilya. You might be smelling the fact that I haven’t taken a proper bath in weeks.”</p><p>“How… curious.”</p><p>“You will come with me, won’t you? If the Devil has bound you to this place, I can break your chains with a little bit of work. You can see your family again. We can keep you safe.” </p><p>Despite Asra trying his best to comfort him with a smile, Julian averts his eyes and withdraws his hand, careful so as to avoid nicking Asra’s skin with his nails. “I don’t like this,” he mumbles, more to himself. “No, I don’t like this one, not at all. I should rip him apart.”</p><p>Asra’s fists clench in his lap. “How can I convince you that I’m real?”</p><p>Julian scoffs at him. He taps the bar twice, and a filthy tankard materializes on the counter beside Asra’s hip, overflowing with frothy liquid that looks horribly like bile. “The Devil doesn’t bleed,” Julian remarks. He takes a swig from the mug and eyes Asra up, old cruelty alight in his eyes again.</p><p>“You want me… to bleed?”</p><p>“That’s right. No illusions. I want to feel it for myself.”</p><p>Of course. In life, Dr. Devorak was a man of science whose religion was reason. Even so, goosebumps prick the back of Asra’s neck in anticipation of the coming pain. “Then you want to do it?” Asra clarifies, wincing at the waver in his own voice. “I… I won’t stop you, Ilya, I’ll understand.”</p><p>To Asra’s surprise, Julian’s face falls. “You know I can’t,” he whimpers.</p><p>“Then I’ll do it. If a little scratch is all it takes to convince you that I’m not here to hurt you, that is a small price to pay indeed.” Asra reaches into his pocket for his knife, but pauses when he sees the sudden terror in Julian’s silver eyes, so he withdraws, and instead offers up his hand to Julian. “Give me your hand, Ilya.”</p><p>“W-what are you going to do?”</p><p>“I’m going to use one of your talons to cut the back of my hand.”</p><p>“You can’t!”</p><p>“Ilya, I am not going to take out any weapons. I don’t want you to think I have any ulterior motives. So I need your hand, please.”</p><p>Julian jumps off the stool, so fast that his strange scaly legs get tangled with each other and land him on the floor. A few stray feathers fly off him. “No!” he caws. “I won’t! You can’t!”</p><p>Asra casts his glance around the tavern for something he can use. There are a few tables and chairs, upended and dusty. The windows are clouded with grime. A few flickering lanterns glow from the infinite black ceiling. Ah-- but there, in the corner, a bottle broken into pieces on the floor! He hops from the bar to sprint for the glass. Julian sees it at the same time, and cries out and seizes Asra by the ankle, toppling the magician face-first into the floor. “Agh!” Asra yelps. Burning pain seeps through his right palm and wrist.</p><p>Julian scrambles to his side, eyes bulging, trembling all over. “No-- nononono-- this isn’t right, you can’t be-- can’t be--”</p><p>Gritting his teeth, Asra hoists himself up on all fours. Bright red blood is seeping from his palm in which a dozen shards of glass are buried. “That could have gone better,” he hisses.</p><p>For once in his life, Julian seems to be at a loss for words. It is unsettling to hear his shaky breathing unpunctuated by ramblings. He reaches out to take Asra’s injured hand in the tips of his fingers. “Warm,” he whispers. “It… feels warm.”</p><p>“Feels like it hurts. Is there something around here that I can bind it with?”</p><p>Julian raises his sparkling eyes to Asra’s. “I’ll clean it first… Asra.”</p><p>Asra manages a grin. “You remember my name?”</p><p>“I could never forget you, angel. No matter how I tried.” He swallows a strangled sob down. “C-come, sit, away from the glass. I’ll clean you up.”</p><p>Asra allows Julian to help him to his feet and guide him back to sit at the bar. It’s comforting to feel Julian’s (scaly) fingers brushing his skin, tender and warm. He relaxes into the barstool. “Thank you, Ilya,” Asra says.</p><p>Julian’s pale skin flushes red under the feathers peppering his cheeks. “The Devil is improving,” he answers simply.</p><p>A cold chill slithers down Asra’s spine. He looks down at the floor and clenches his jaw to keep from retorting.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Julian’s long curved talons, it turns out, seem to be perfect tweezers. He selects the biggest shard of glass to pinch between two of his nails and removes it with a surgeon’s precision. “This looks like it hurts,” he ponders, and peers up at Asra’s face as though he’s searching for any hint of a lie in his grimace. </p><p>“Being a doctor, I’m pleased to hear that you realize that the human body is not invulnerable,” Asra teases.</p><p>“I’m not a doctor anymore.” Julian slides another shard from Asra’s hand, and Asra winces. </p><p>“Well, you are now,” Asra tells him, trying to keep his voice steady despite the acute agony shooting through his palm. “I doubt you could find a more qualified individual in all the country to treat a wound.”</p><p>“You flatter me, you really do.”</p><p>Another shard is removed. Asra blinks tears from his eyes and watches Julian’s face instead of the operation. This transformation has hollowed Julian’s cheekbones even more, thinned his lips, rimmed his eyes with red. Unkempt feathers stick out every which way along his cheeks and forehead. There are patches between the plumage that are pervaded by bright red pores, and Asra realizes with a shudder that the feathers there must have been ripped out by the quills. “Poor thing,” he breathes. “What did that to you?”</p><p>Julian frowns. “Did what?”</p><p>It might be risky, but Asra uses his other hand to reach up to Julian’s face. His heart skips a beat when Julian flinches away. “You’re hurt,” Asra says.</p><p>“Don’t fuss, it all grows back--”</p><p>Asra gasps. Dread seizes his stomach and twists it around. “You didn’t, Ilya! You didn’t!”</p><p>“Stop moving!”</p><p>There are more tears, not from the glass stuck in his skin, and he is too disturbed to notice Julian’s newfound terror. “How could you? How long have you been trying to pluck them?”</p><p>“I said stop moving! I don’t want to hurt you!”</p><p>Asra snatches his hand back. “You martyr, you fool! You worry about me when you’re in this state? If the wounds were infected-- if you cut an artery--”</p><p>The monster lunges forward before Asra can withdraw, grabs his injured wrist, and twists it back up to the light. “Be still,” he growls. “I’m not discussing my personal habits with one of the Devil’s lackeys. You should be grateful for your appearance, or I would be more than happy to let you bleed all over the floor!”</p><p>“Ilya!” Asra cries. Burning tears stream down his cheeks. “I’m here, I’m here! You’ve waited for so long and I’m here now and I’ll make things right!”</p><p>“Be quiet, witch, or I’ll silence you myself!” the creature roars.</p><p>Asra purses his lips. He must look pathetic, sniffling and sobbing, not even trying to fight back. At last, he resigns to bowing his head. He chokes back sobs that have nothing to do with his wound.</p><p>“There. You know, the swamp water isn’t clean enough to drink, but perhaps it’s clean enough to wash this out,” his caretaker muses. “I think there are some old rags upstairs to bind it with.”</p><p>“Why are you being so kind to me?” Asra whispers.</p><p>There is a pause. Two practiced talons pause in their work against his skin. “I shouldn’t be,” the monster replies.</p><p>“Do you still care for me? After all this time, Ilya?”</p><p>“I told you to be quiet.”</p><p>Asra swallows and nods. Another piece of glass is removed. “Hm… that must be the first time you listened to me. You are quite a strange one.”</p><p>Asra nods again.</p><p>“I wish you were real. I have fantasized about Asra coming back, and freeing me and taking me away.” The claws rest against Asra’s wound, not hard enough to hurt. “He made me… so very happy, when I was alive. I don’t ever want him to see me like this.”</p><p>Taking a chance, Asra mutters, “like what?”</p><p>“Look at me. Who could love something like me? In what world would I be considered even a little bit normal?” Julian heaves a grim chuckle. “Anyhow, you should go wash up. Come back and I’ll bind it. Or leave, and make my life easier.” He releases Asra’s hand in favor of seizing his tankard of beer and taking a sip.</p><p>Asra stands up from the bar. “I will come back,” he declares.</p><p>“Yes, yes, of course, dear! Off you go now!” Julian waves him off with one hand and drains the mug with the other. </p><p>Despair is bitter in Asra’s mouth. He wants to do something, but he has no idea what, so he settles for leaving the tavern. The swamp outside is infinitely less inviting. Asra approaches the edge of one of the reddish canals and submerges his hand in the water, letting out a sigh. Even through the cloudiness of the still water, he can see that every piece of glass has been meticulously removed, and it gives him a tiny rush of relief that at least Julian doesn’t want him to suffer. </p><p>But if Julian is so hesitant to trust Asra despite their years of friendship… what has the Devil done to him, exactly?</p><p>Asra stands up and glances back toward the Rowdy Raven (?). If he squints hard enough, he can make out chains as opaque as fishing line draped around the building, as though holding it in place in this ever-shifting world. He steels himself before pushing the door open again.</p><p>Julian looks genuinely shocked to see Asra standing there again, as though they’re meeting for the first time all over. “Oh,” he says.</p><p>“Your faith in me is astounding, Ilya,” Asra remarks dryly. “You said that there are some rags upstairs I can borrow?”</p><p>“I, er-- yes, I-- yes. I’ll-- fetch something, I suppose, for you.”</p><p>“I can do it.”</p><p>Julian unhooks his legs from the bar stool with a shake of his feathery head that sounds like distant rain on a window pane. “I’m-- the doctor, I should-- I should do it! You stay. Um. Here. Sit.” He pats one of the barstools and gestures for Asra to approach, which he does. “Right here, and don’t move, yes?”</p><p>“Yes, Doctor,” Asra answers, and perches on the stool like a model patient hoping for a lollipop.</p><p>“G-good. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” Just like that, he’s scrambling around the bar, up a set of stairs that Asra never knew existed. <em>He called himself a doctor. That’s progress, isn’t it?</em></p><p>Something falls with a <em>thump</em> upstairs. Asra cranes his head to try to see. “Ilya?” he shouts.</p><p>“It’s alright! Just-- oh, curse these damnable feathered monstrosities-- just a minute!”</p><p>Asra muffles a giggle behind his other hand. The thought of Julian not knowing his own wingspan and knocking things over is almost enough to prompt Asra to get up and check on him, but he wants to earn the doctor’s trust, so he stays put.</p><p>Until the tavern door opens.</p><p>“Jules!” the newcomer announces, twirling his bloodspattered cape around his shoulders and sneering. “Come out, come out, wherever you-- oh?” His scarlet eyes meet Asra’s violet ones.</p><p>“You’ve got to be joking,” Asra growls.</p><p>“Has the mutant made a new friend?” Lucio Morgasson asks. “How sweet.” His pearly teeth, when he grins, look far too canine to be human.</p><p>Asra scowls at him. “You’re close,” he shoots back, “but the arm is on the other side.”</p><p>Lucio glances down at himself, at his golden arm extending from the right side, and rolls his eyes. “Everyone’s a critic,” he grumbles.</p><p>“I suggest you come back later. Ilya is busy and he doesn’t want to see you.”</p><p>“Of course he wants to see me! We’re old chums!”</p><p>“I don’t think you understand,” Asra snarls. He stands up from the barstool and the beginnings of a spell spark in his bloody fingers. “I suggest you come back later, if you want to remain in one piece, <em>Devil</em>.”</p><p>Lucio’s smirk widens. His eyes are bright and wicked and alight with hellfire. “You have no power here, magician. This is my world. Haven’t you noticed that none of your spells work properly anymore? What are you planning to do, shine a light at me?”</p><p><em>Oh, right.</em> Asra shrinks back but his glare doesn’t diminish. “Haven’t you hurt him enough?” he spits.</p><p>“I have all the time in the world to bend him to my whims,” Lucio replies, and takes a few steps forward, heels clicking on the rickety floorboards. “Don’t be stupid, little mortal. Call him down to me and you’ll get a front-row ticket to the show.”</p><p>“I won’t let you touch him!” Asra wills the energy in his body into his hands, for something, anything, to manifest, but the atmosphere is stifling and hot and he is helpless. He glances around the room for a weapon of some kind and of course he sees nothing.</p><p>“You won’t let me,” Lucio mocks. “You’ve been a thorn in my side for long enough, magician. I think it’s time I make an example of you.” Lucio lunges forward before Asra can stop him and suddenly there are red-hot fingers around his throat, inescapable, inevitable, and he is gasping for breath and sobbing and pleading, and laughter rings in his ears louder and louder and louder--</p><p>A shriek pierces through the room. Asra is released, and falls to the floor on his knees, crying and breathing in great lungfuls of air. A flurry of feathers whirls through the air. Lucio is barking something, and there is an inhuman hiss in response before something crashes past the door with a bone-rattling scream.</p><p>And then there is silence.</p><p>Asra trembles, and then can’t stop, and now he’s weeping all over again. The quiet is maddening. Even the ethereal music has faded. He wishes <em>something</em> would make a noise, <em>something</em> gives him a sign that he isn’t dead and he’s chained to purgatory like an eternally sinking ship--</p><p>“Asra? Asra, turtledove, can you hear me? I’m here, you’re safe, I’m here…”</p><p>Someone is holding him. It smells like teakwood and stale beer. Sharp nails are digging into his back, but he doesn’t care, because his face is buried in a sea of downy feathers and two strong arms give him sanctuary. “Ilya,” he rasps, and immediately hacks up the air it took to say his name.</p><p>“Shhh. You mustn't speak yet. Your windpipe was compromised.”</p><p>“Hmmn.”</p><p>“Just for a few minutes, I promise.”</p><p>Asra tries to pout to make his point. He isn’t sure it has the effect he wanted. Instead, he reaches up with both hands to shakily comb through the feathers that he can reach, making Julian chuckle.</p><p>“What are you doing? Is it uncomfortable, my darling?”</p><p>“Hmm-mm.”</p><p>“Your journey must have exhausted you. I’ll hold you if you want to rest.”</p><p>Asra nods. “Stay,” he breathes.</p><p>Julian shivers, but removes one of his hands from Asra’s back so he can cradle the back of Asra’s head. “I will,” he murmurs.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Asra must have fallen asleep at some point, because he definitely wakes up somewhere, from an awkward position on his stomach. He opens his eyes. He is sprawled across a brownish motheaten mattress, hands over his head, one of which is wrapped with fresh linen. How did he get here…?</p><p>“Ilya!” he yelps. He bolts upright and looks wildly around the room. It looks like someone lived here a hundred years ago, judging from the chest of drawers, vanity, and fireplace, all of which are dusty with neglect. No bird men here. Asra races through the room, down the creaky stairs, and comes out behind the bar of the Rowdy Raven. He lets out a sigh of relief and clutches his heart when he sees Julian at his usual seat.</p><p>“Ilya, I was so frightened--! Thank you for-- Ilya? Are you alright?”</p><p>Julian isn’t meeting his eyes. He’s staring straight down into his half-drained tankard of beer. “Forgive me,” he whimpers.</p><p>“Ilya?”</p><p>“I’m so sorry, Asra. I treated you horribly. You gave me every reason to trust you, and yet I refused to believe you, and because of me, you’re hurt now.”</p><p>“No, Ilya, listen to me--”</p><p>Julian grits his teeth. The feathers on his back puff up in anger. “You need to leave before I hurt you again. I can’t risk it, not now that I know you’re alive and well!”</p><p>Asra sprints around the side of the bar so he can meet Julian, and tries to wrap his arms around Julian’s narrow shoulders before Julian shrugs him away with hilarious ease. “You saved me!” Asra argues. “You fought the Devil’s lackey in my name! And the glass in my hand was my own fault, not yours! How in the world can you blame yourself instead of--”</p><p>“Your back!” Julian squawks.</p><p>“My… my back?”</p><p>Julian groans and turns away. “I was scared, I wanted to comfort you-- oh, Gods, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”</p><p>Perplexed, Asra reaches under his shirt and runs his hand up his back. He is startled to find fresh scabs of shallow wounds along his skin. “Your talons,” he realizes.</p><p>“<em>My fault</em>! The visions-- they never bled, you see, I forgot-- humans flesh is so delicate--”</p><p>Asra takes the opportunity to press himself against Julian’s spine, trapping him with both arms around his neck, nuzzling his nose into the feathers against his jaw. Julian practically moans under the onslaught, words forgotten. “Didn’t I tell you?” Asra croons. “A little scratch is a small price to pay for your trust. I should be thanking you for giving me the opportunity.”</p><p>“Oh-- ohhasraaa--”</p><p>“You were so good to me, my dear doctor. How shall I reward you?”</p><p>The next sounds that emit from Julian’s mouth can’t be classified as one identifiable language. His wings twitch and squirm. Now <em>this</em> is the Julian Devorak that Asra knows. “Take your time deciding. Perhaps you’d like a special meal? A bit of preening? Or--” Asra finds a patch of skin that hasn’t been invaded by feathers to plant a lingering kiss-- “you could leave it up to me?”</p><p>“Leaveitupto-- upto--”</p><p>“You’re getting close, take some deep breaths.”</p><p>Julian does his best to obey. His chest heaves so much, a few feathers ruffle up, and Asra has to resist the urge to run his fingers through them. “What-- would you-- like?” he chokes out.</p><p>“I would like to give you a demonstration of how beautiful I find you, and how I have missed you.” Asra meets no resistance when he tilts Julian’s head back to hold it, to toy with the new feathers peppering his Adam's apple. “Only if you wish it as much as I, of course, dear heart. I know you need time to recover from the Devil’s torture. But you must understand, all I want is to help you.”</p><p>“Beautiful,” Julian cooes.</p><p>“Lovely, gorgeous, breathtaking… Do you want this, my love? As much as I do?”</p><p>Julian grins and nods. “I’m ashamed to admit how many times I have imagined it… you, wanting me…”</p><p>Asra releases Julian so he can saunter around to Julian’s front, and sit primly in his lap. He guides the tips of his fingers up Julian’s torso, watching with delight as Julian fidgets. “Ilya, I have a confession to make,” he says. “I have been alone for many nights… or days, who can say… and when I am lonely, it is you I think of. It is your name on my lips when I touch myself and your eyes that I see when I close mine.” He glances up through his eyelashes to meet Julian’s aroused stare, and adds, “have you learned your new body, lover? Learned to please yourself? Teach me everything you know.”</p><p>Julian wilts. “He told me it was disgraceful,” he mutters.</p><p>“He?”</p><p>“The Devil’s visions… they mocked me and said that I didn’t deserve satisfaction, and that I should learn to live like the monster I am. I suppose I didn’t want to be even more hideous like they said. So I… tried to distract myself from it.”</p><p>Asra’s heart clenches tight. He presses his forehead to the bridge of Julian’s nose, and cups his hollow cheeks in both warm hands. “You are not a monster,” Asra soothes.</p><p>Julian’s eyes close, alleviation softening his features. “Kind Asra,” he breathes.</p><p>“I’ll prove it to you, Ilya, I swear! Whatever it takes!” Asra captures Julian’s elusive lips between his own. He is sure not to bite or suck to keep from startling Julian away, and instead leans away after a few seconds to gauge his reaction.</p><p>His heart drops. Julian’s wide grey eyes are full of fear and the beginnings of fresh tears. “Oh,” he whispers, raising his claws to Asra’s face, so gentle it feels like a summer breeze. “My turtledove, my little lamb, my darling, I-- I’m not ready, I’m sorry--! I’m so afraid!”</p><p>“That’s alright, that’s alright, I’m not angry!”</p><p>“I don’t want to hurt you, you see? And I don’t want you to-- to try to please me, whatever I am-- once I fix myself, I will be all yours!”</p><p>“Shh, shh, Ilya, shh. It’s alright. We won’t rush anything.” Asra gives him a little eskimo kiss and starts to climb off his lap, but Julian drapes his arms around his neck to hold him in place.</p><p>“Stay,” he pleads. “Just a little longer.”</p><p>Asra smiles. “As long as you want.”</p><p>So he does. Asra rests his head in the crook of Julian’s feathery neck, breathing him in, savoring the comfort of an embrace he has craved for what seems like years. He is a little disappointed that Julian keeps his talons hovering above Asra’s back but it’s understandable considering his fear. To soothe him, Asra brings his palms up Julian’s torso, to rest on his chest. “How about a preening, then?” he asks.</p><p>“Mm… I suppose it makes sense… I certainly have a lot to, er, preen now…”</p><p>“Think of it like brushing your hair,” Asra remarks, and combs through the feathers where Julian’s hair used to be, admiring how they shine in the light. “Ah, how pretty you look! Think of how much lovelier you’ll be when you’re all cleaned up!”</p><p>Flustered, Julian’s feathers ruffle up a little, making him look a little bit like a very fluffy ostrich. “You don’t have to be so nice, I know I’m strange now,” he mumbles.</p><p>“Nonsense! I think you’re just as handsome as you were before your transformation. After all, who is to say what the new normal is nowadays? For all we know there could be a hundred bird people bound to the Devil.” Asra unloops Julian’s arms from around his neck so he can climb off and circle around to Julian’s back. He searches through the feathery field with the tips of his fingers, feeling for loose plumage and bent quills.</p><p>“I hope not,” Julian answers.</p><p>“Well, you know what I mean. The Devil is a persuasive being.”</p><p>Julian closes his eyes and heaves a heavy sigh. His shoulders relax for the first time during Asra’s visit. He leans backward, resting against Asra’s stomach, limp and willing. “I like this,” he slurs. “Could get used to this.”</p><p>Asra plucks an errant feather from his scalp and lets it drift to the floor. “Would you… want to get used to this?” he asks tentatively.</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>The magician hesitates. “I mean… would you want to get used to me? Being here with you? I know it’s a bit rude, but I want to help, Ilya, and I can’t help if I can’t break your chains first…”</p><p>Both of them pause to let the question float in the air. At last, Julian replies, “I think that would be best. I can keep you safe here.”</p><p>“Ah-- Ilya, thank you, thank you!”</p><p>“There are monsters in this world,” Julian continues, soft and measured. “Only a monster can win against its fellow monster. In a way, you see, I am very lucky.”</p><p>Despite his tone, it settles in the pit of Asra’s stomach. He removes another feather and holds his tongue.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4 (dubcon warning)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> The door swings open. Julian, who was snooping around upstairs in the apartment, snaps to attention. Is someone… here? </em> Here <em> here? He scrambles out of the apartment, down the stairs, out into the bar. His heart soars. “Asra!” he exclaims. </em></p><p>
  <em> Sure enough, Asra is standing in the center of the room. Unfortunately, he doesn’t look quite as thrilled to be here, and he furrows his brows at Julian. Julian blushes. “Er-- it’s me, Asra,” he continues, “it’s Julian, I-- I know I look different, but I swear it’s me!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Asra cocks his head to the side. “Is that so?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Yes! Oh, Asra, I was so scared!” Julian scoops him up in his arms, burying his face in Asra’s angelic sweet-smelling curls. “How did you find me? I wish I could have come for you, Asra, I missed you so much--” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What the hell are you doing?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Julian blinks. “I-- I, er--” </em>
</p><p><em> “Get away from me!” Asra shoves Julian away with furious strength. His eyes reflect the firelight that must be flickering in one of the many lanterns overhead. “How dare you touch me? Do you think what we had in the past gives you the right to me now, when you look like </em> this <em> ?” </em></p><p>
  <em> Cold realization trickles down Julian’s spine. He feels his feathers wilt in disappointment, and already there is a lump growing in his throat. “It… it wasn’t my fault,” he mutters. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “But it is, isn’t it? You gave yourself to the Devil willingly. No wonder you ended up so pitiful.” Asra scowls at him and looks him up and down. All of a sudden, Julian’s awareness of his own changes is amplified tenfold. He shifts and tries to wrap his wings around his shoulders, perhaps to try to look smaller. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I am pitiful now,” Julian agrees quietly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have forced myself on you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Asra hums and strides around him. Again, Julian tries to shrink in upon himself, and fails. He hates seeing the disgusted look in Asra’s beautiful eyes. It hurts, oh, it hurts, and he hopes that Asra forgives his terrible mistake. “You should see yourself, Ilya,” the magician scorns, and the sound of Julian’s name on Asra’s tongue makes him tremble. “Did you expect me to be happy to see you? I came here searching for a man, not a beast.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I am the same on the inside,” Julian chirps. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Are you?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I-- I still love you! I would do anything for you!” Julian peeks out from behind one of his wings to meet Asra’s skeptical stare. “And I may not be able to leave this place, but if you stayed, I--” </em>
</p><p><em> “ </em> Stayed <em> ?” Asra laughs, ice cold, shooting pain through Julian’s heart. “Why would </em> anyone <em> want to stay with </em> you <em> ? You disgusting, foolish thing!” </em></p><p>
  <em> Julian ducks back behind into the sanctuary of his wings. His breath comes sharp and heavy. Everything is falling, all his dreams, all his hopes, his world, falling away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> A delicate finger strokes along one of his wings, and he jumps. “What a shame,” Asra muses. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Julian opens his wings again in order to look at Asra. As soon as he is exposed, Asra reaches between Julian’s wings to touch his chest, and take a fistful of feathers to tug at, catching at his breath. “Ah-- Asra, dearest--” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You’re still so desperate. What a wretched creature... would you like for me to put you out of your misery, hm? My touch-starved beast?” Asra slides between Julian’s wings so he can embrace him. And he is small, so much smaller than Julian remembers, so fragile, and so so perfect.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Julian muffles a sob behind his hand. He closes his wings around both of them and allows Asra to wrap him up in jasmine-scented warmth. “You are merciful,” Julian whimpers. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I know. Don’t forget it.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I won’t-- oh, Gods, Asra! I love you! I love you with all my heart!” He feels tears sliding down his cheeks and hopes Asra won’t notice. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The answering chuckle makes his heart throb. “What heart?” Asra croons. “Does a brute like you really know what love is?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Love is the only thing I understand, because I know that I love you!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Asra snuggles his face into the nest of feathers in the center of Julian’s chest. His fingernails dig into Julian’s back, drawing a pleased moan from the monster’s throat. “I’ll give you what you want, Ilya, because I feel for you,” he says. “All you have to do is do exactly what I say, and I’ll be very happy. You do want to make me happy, don’t you?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I would die to make you happy!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Then get down on the ground. My boots are dirty from the mud outside, and I want to be able to see my reflection in them.” Asra steps back and watches with a sneer as Julian scrambles to kneel down at his feet. “There. On the ground, where you belong. Now get on with it, beast, before I become impatient and leave you to your loneliness.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Julian chokes back another cry as he takes one of Asra’s boots in his talons and begins to lick it clean of mud. </em>
</p><p>--</p><p>“There,” Asra announces with a flourish from his kneeling position by Julian’s feet and a proud smile. The last stray feather flutters to the ground from between his fingers. “I think I got almost everything! I-- Ilya? Ilya, are you alright, my love?”</p><p>He isn’t alright. He has woken up from his nap, and now that he has, he is twitching and shaking all over, almost on the verge of tears. Asra furrows his brow and climbs into his lap to run his fingers through the feathers crowning his head. “Ilya? Talk to me, darling, what is it? Have I done something wrong?”</p><p>Julian swallows. “Nightmare,” he whispers.</p><p>“Perhaps it is the Devil’s doing. Whatever it is, it has gone, and it can’t hurt you. I’ll protect you from now on and I won’t allow him to harm you again.” He tries to continue, but falters when Julian starts to shake with mirth, chortling humorlessly at his words.</p><p>“Clever trick, cleverest of tricks, my Asra, and I dropped my defenses for you like you knew I would--” Julian grits his teeth and puts on a grotesque smile. “And I’ll play along, yes I will, my turtledove, like you know I will, always and always and beyond forever!”</p><p>Asra’s heart drops into the pit of his stomach. “No, Ilya, please, I love you with all my heart,” he whines. </p><p>“What heart?” Julian shoots back. He refuses to meet Asra’s eyes despite his savage words. “Thank you for the preening. I’ll admit that I liked it. But you don’t need to take your time, really, this kindness has been more than enough for a lifetime.”</p><p>“Ilya. I. Am not. <em> Leaving </em>.”</p><p>“Then what will you do to pass eternity? If you figure it out, you must tell me.”</p><p>Asra scrutinizes Julian’s face. He thought they had made progress, and yet here they are back at square one, with an unbelieving Julian and a broken Asra. What on earth is he supposed to do to prove to Julian that he is real and not a dream? “I’ll do anything you ask of me,” Asra murmurs to him.</p><p>Julian frowns. “Leave me alone.”</p><p>“Except for that.”</p><p>“Figures. Well, nothing comes to mind, so I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait.” </p><p>“I could clean up the Rowdy Raven? Sweep up the broken glass, organize some of the tables and chairs?”</p><p>Julian finally meets Asra’s eyes. Asra’s heart skips a beat, pulsing with hope. “How’s this?” Julian says. “I’ll bind your wrists together, so you can’t attack me, and tie the doorbell around your neck, so you can’t sneak up on me, and we’ll get along just famously until you tire of me and travel back to hell where you belong.”</p><p>Asra sighs and lets his arms fall from around Julian’s neck. That wasn’t what he was expecting, but it wasn’t an impossibility. “Alright, Ilya. I never thought I would say this to <em> you </em> of all people, but tie me up.”</p><p>Julian takes Asra by the waist and pulls him back onto his feet, surprisingly gentle. He marches past Asra without a backwards glance to climb the stairs to the apartment. Asra doesn’t dare to move from his position next to the bar, tense and alert, hoping beyond hope that this will all be worth it. There’s a shuffling from upstairs. After a few moments, Julian tromps back down the stairs, a coil of rope in his hands. “If this rope comes off,” he declares, “I’m throwing you out, and that’s a promise.”</p><p>Without an ounce of hesitation, Asra offers his wrists up, palms facing the sky. “I am yours, Ilya. Take me.”</p><p>All the feathers on Julian’s body puff up at once. “D-don’t get any ideas,” he grumbles, and winds the rope taut to Asra’s wrists, tugging every so often to make sure he couldn’t slip out. He finishes it off with a complicated looking sailor’s knot. </p><p>“Ooh, I won’t be able to get out of this.”</p><p>“That’s the point. Stay there, don’t move.” Julian trots to the door to the bar, and, with his new height, can reach the top easily, to grab the little bell on a string and free it from its position. It jingles a cheerful tune. He steps behind Asra so he can use the very tips of his talons to drape the bell around his neck. Julian is so careful, the string could be mistaken for a diamond necklace. Though it takes a bit of fumbling, a knot is made, and the bell hangs from Asra’s collar on its own.</p><p>“I feel like a cat,” Asra mumbles. “I should get a bowl of cream too. If Faust could see me now...”</p><p>“No cream here, darling. I’m going up to bed, and I expect you to stay down here, do you understand?” Before Asra can respond, claws run through his hair, combing and stroking rather than slicing. He leans backwards into it with a coo of pleasure. “You can do whatever you like, yes? But I want you down here at the bar. The stairs to the apartment are creaky, so I’ll hear it if you try anything.”</p><p>A dreamy smile floats across Asra’s face. “Yes, Ilya, I’ll be good,” he purrs.</p><p>“G-good. Right. Well then.” The nails withdraw from Asra’s scalp, even though Asra moans in protest, and Julian trundles back up the stairs. His wings brush against the walls on either side of the staircase.</p><p>Asra slumps over, which makes the bell clink against his skin. He feels like breaking down and weeping all over again. But he can’t-- he’s come this far, he’s stuck around for this long, and there’s no way he’s giving up on Julian Devorak. Not again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5 (NSFW) (dubcon warning)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“Good boy,” Asra purrs, lifting his shirt over his head and throwing it in the pile of clothes a few feet away. Though his bottom half is still unfortunately clothed, Julian can feel the muscles in Asra’s thighs straddling his feathery hips. His love’s amber torso ripples and twists in the golden light. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Beneath him, Julian groans. “Angel,” he whispers. “Oh, my angel, teach me how to worship you!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? If I ordered you around like the spineless freak that you are.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A lovedrunk grin curls Julian’s lips. “Yes, very much. Would you?” When Asra just glares him down, he continues, “please?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Asra raises his eyebrows. Just when Julian thinks all hope might be lost, Asra reaches behind himself to begin taking off his boots, and Julian sighs with relief. “Oh, Asra, Asra--”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Shut up. I didn’t tell you to speak.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Julian nods and closes his eyes. This is what he wants, isn’t it? Then why does his heart hurt so badly? Between his legs, his new strange genitalia sings Asra’s praises, and his inhuman claws hunger for Asra’s syrupsweet flesh, and yet… and</span>
  </em>
  <span> yet</span>
  <em>
    <span>... </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This is quite the predicament,” Asra muses overhead. Julian’s eyes open and his doubts are assuaged the moment he sees Asra naked and feels him settling against his skin. The meat of his legs is soft against his waist, the lips of his pussy is like velvet on his abdomen, and by the Gods he could orgasm just from this. Asra traces intricate patterns across Julian’s heaving chest. “For you see, Ilya, I don’t want to touch-- eugh, whatever you have now down there, but I still want to use your body for my pleasure. What do you suggest I do?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Julian’s legs fidget against his will. “You-- you don’t have to please me, of course, Asra-- I’ll do whatever you say, and I won’t touch myself no matter what--”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Asra runs a finger up to Julian’s mouth and lingers there, watching. The monster takes it dutifully into his mouth to suck. “You are an abomination, even in this topsy-turvy world,” Asra hisses. “At least you know how to listen. Give me your word that you won’t ever allow yourself release, brute. You don’t deserve it. You will earn my affection by obeying me. Do you understand?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When Julian doesn’t respond at once, Asra withdraws his hand and uses it to slap him across the face. “Yes!” Julian squawks.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Louder!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes, Asra, anything! It doesn’t matter what I want, because you’re-- you’re perfect! And I don’t deserve you!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Asra dives down to capture his lips in a violent kiss. It tastes like jasmine and blood and tears prick Julian’s eyes when Asra bites into his lip, but it’s good, it’s so good, knowing that he is Asra’s, and Asra is satisfied with his work. He moans when Asra licks up his chin. “Aren’t you a good boy,” Asra cooes. “Aren’t you, my terrible brute? Yes, you are, so good, so obedient, Ilya.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I would die for you,” Julian answers desperately.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Perhaps I will kill you,” Asra lilts, shifting on Julian’s waist and pushing down with his hips. He brings one hand down between his own legs. Julian licks his lips in anticipation. “Yes, perhaps I will. Such a hideous creature as you should not be allowed to live. Then again, living is such a curse, isn’t it…?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Julian’s breath stops halfway down his throat. “To die by your hand would be exquisite, Asra,” he rasps.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I would make it exquisite. So very painful, Ilya, that you would beg me to finish you off for hours on end.” Asra crooks his fingers and slips one inside himself, smiling at the thought of it, and Julian’s heart skips a beat when he realizes: </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’s thinking of me</span>
  <em>
    <span>!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Asra-- Gods, I-- I’d like to touch you! Please? Please!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Asra considers him. At last, he replies, “you may touch, but don’t put your claws anywhere near my cunt or I’ll leave.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>With a joyed gasp, Julian reaches up to stroke Asra’s back, watching his love’s face with passionate reverence. “You’re so kind,” he whispers, “oh, Asra, you’re so merciful! I wish I could give you the world!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Asra adds another finger and his eyes flutter closed in lust. “Go on,” he says.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“N-not just merciful, but gorgeous, too! My angel, I could watch you for the rest of eternity and never tire of your face!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Happiness surges through Julian’s body when Asra lets out a melodic moan. “More,” he orders breathily.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Your voice-- your voice is honey on the ears! And your body-- crafted by the Gods, every bit of it, so perfect, so divine-- in this filthy world, you are a shining star who has fallen to earth and walks among the wretched. Even your hair-- there, the color of starlight--! Darling, I want to kiss you, please!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But Asra, once again, takes pity on him, and kisses him first, swift and fierce, and Julian swoons from happiness. The pulsating thing between his legs is starting to ache from neglect now but he digs his fingers into Asra’s skin to keep from giving in to temptation. Asra unlatches his mouth and rests his lips against Julian’s while he speaks. “Pretty words from such a creature,” Asra hums. “I might just keep you after all.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Anything, anything!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And I’m going to-- ah, it feels good!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Julian kisses him once more and relishes Asra’s cry into his mouth. He must have added another finger. Julian can just imagine it, how it looks, how it feels, how it tastes, but he doesn’t deserve any of that, and he must be satisfied to bask in Asra’s contentment. Again, his thighs squirm and rub out of instinct. Asra, dripping onto his own fingers. Asra, tasting of passionfruit and seasalt. Asra, the inside of a tangerine, ready to burst--</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Julian wails and screws his eyes shut. The throbbing between his legs is undeniable now, and it’s leaking past his feathers onto the floor, and he </span>
  </em>
  <span>needs</span>
  <em>
    <span> to be good!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A hand clasps around his throat to anchor him. “Don’t,” Asra growls. “Don’t you fucking dare!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I-- I’m sorry-- Asraplease I’ll do anything-- please I love you I need you--”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Shut the fuck up, you slut! I haven’t even touched you and you want to cum? How easy are you?” Asra starts to climb off, but Julian clings to him for dear life, holding Asra’s hand against his neck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Stay! I’ll be good, dearest, you can-- you can use me, however you’d like, and I’ll be so good!” Julian buries his face in the crook of Asra’s perfumed neck. Tears come thick and hot down his cheeks. “Use me-- angel, I’ll serve you-- oh f-fuck-- forever-- forever--”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Asra growls into the sea of feathers crowning Julian’s head. “Stop snivelling. I just want to cum. Can you hold it in for a few minutes, or is even that too hard for you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll d-do it, I promise!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s getting difficult to breathe. Asra’s fingers around his neck must be bruising his skin, and knowing that he is being marked makes him breathless too. Black dots gather at the corners of his vision. He tries to keep his eyes open, so he can admire Asra coming undone, smiling like a fool at Asra’s unfocused gaze and hazy grin. Asra releases Julian’s throat so he can cradle Julian’s head in both his hands while he comes down from his high. “There,” Asra sings between breaths. “Oh, yes, love, there. Good boy.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Asra?” Julian murmurs.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You… you aren’t the real Asra. Are you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Asra giggles in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “Oh, no, my dear. I’m not the real Asra.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Then-- who are y-you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I think you know,” Asra tells him. Julian can feel his malicious sneer against his cheek. “You just don’t want to say it aloud. Because we’re having simply too much fun, aren’t we, Ilya?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Julian swallows a cry back. “Y-yes, Asra.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sleep now. I will leave before you wake.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The monster shudders again. He closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see Asra’s glorious face again. “I… I still love you,” he breathes. “I always will. Every bit of you, Asra.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I know. Believe me, I know.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Asra did not plan to spend his time at the Rowdy Raven cleaning the whole time, but clean he does. After stepping out momentarily to relieve himself, unsure if there’s a bathroom in the building, he gets down to business. First, he finds a broom and dustpan in a closet. The broken glass in the corner is the first mess to go, then the cobwebs trapped in the corners of the walls and between the overturned tables.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The going is a little more irritating than he expected due to his new handicaps. Sure, the rope around his wrists isn’t that bad at first, but the bell that jingles with each minuscule move is starting to get on his nerves, and to top it off, after finishing up with sweeping, the rope starts to rub against his skin. He resolves to work through the burning pain-- after all, when Julian woke up and saw how hard Asra worked, he would </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to trust him!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So next up is a good scrubdown. Asra uses a dusty rag from behind the counter and a bucket of swampwater to get down on his hands and knees and begin the monumental task of washing the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few minutes, however, he realizes this might have been a bad idea. It’s a lot harder than it looks, scrubbing the floor with both hands tied together. His knees sting almost as much as his wrists. Asra even considers using magic, and then remembers, of course, that magic is practically impossible to conjure inside the Rowdy Raven. Figures. And so he continues.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s almost halfway through in his task when he hears a rustling and creaking from upstairs. Asra perks up at once, making the bell around his neck cling. He sits back on his knees, hoping he looks innocent, with the rag in his hands, and this is how Julian finds him. “Did you sleep well?” Asra inquires from the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian glances around blearily. “Um… what are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cleaning! I thought it would be nice to give the Rowdy Raven a bit of a makeover, since I’m sure it hasn’t been cleaned in-- however long you’ve been here. You’ve had more pressing things to worry about than a bit of dirt and broken glass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cleaning… mm. You don’t have to do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra gives him a bright smile. “I want to! It’s no trouble, really!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian’s expression is inscrutable. His tells are so big, it’s a bit frightening to see him so blank. But at last, he reaches down, to toy with the bell around Asra’s neck, making it jingle against Asra’s racing pulse. “You’re different,” he mutters. “Yes, you are… I can’t put my finger on it…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What makes me different from the visions?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian exhales, ruffling his feathers so they lay flat. “I can’t quite explain… but the Devil, he’s different, he’s always been different from… whatever you are. Maybe you are a dream, while he is a nightmare-- cut from the same cloth, two sides of the same coin, as it were. A waking dream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A comforted grin curls Asra’s lips. “Do with me as you like. I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> dream, after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A short silence falls between them. Still, Julian reveals no emotion, until he kneels down in front of Asra and takes his talon from his collar, murmuring, “I’ll help you clean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah--! Ilya, you don’t have to!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. It’s just… it looks painful, with the rope. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He plucks the rag from Asra’s grip before Asra can stop him. “How about you go fetch some soap instead? There’s a box of cleaning supplies upstairs in a cabinet over the sink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra could dance with joy, if only he weren’t so exhausted. He nods fervently and climbs to his feet (despite wobbling on his weak knees). “I will! Thank you, Ilya!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian graces him with a grin. “Go fetch the aloe from the cabinet too, and we’ll take care of that nasty ropeburn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes every fiber in his being to restrain himself from scooping Julian up in his arms and kissing him. He compromises by nodding again and replying, “you won’t regret this, Ilya, I swear!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian just shoos him away. Asra is more than happy to comply. He practically skips back across the tavern and up the stairs, prompting the bell to sing with each step. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the apartment, faint reddish light streams in through the windows from above the tops of the trees, and Asra wonders what time it would be if this were a normal world. He takes a bit more time to look around the apartment this time. While someone clearly lives here, judging from the indentation in the mattress and the trails through the dust, it hasn’t been tidied up in years. The windows are caked in grime. Cobwebs and dust blanket almost every item in the apartment. None of the furniture is Julian’s style, so this place must have belonged to the previous owner of the Raven. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra pauses in his thinking so he can search through the cabinet above the sink in the bathroom. None of the ointments and bottles have been touched in what looks like years. Whenever he picks up one of the containers, his fingers are coated in some sticky substance. After a little deciphering, Asra finally selects a box of soap and a bottle of aloe, and brings both of them with him downstairs. “I hope this is right,” he calls. “You can get up, I’ll take care of the physical work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian looks over his shoulder at the sound of Asra’s voice and the bell around his throat. Asra feels like he could fly when Julian smiles at him, actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>smiles</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Nonsense! This is my dwelling, after all. I would have cleaned up anyway if I had known you were coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should give you advance warning next time,” Asra jokes. He kneels down beside Julian on a bit of dry floor and begins prying open the box of soap with his fingernails.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid I wouldn’t have believed you if you did. Here, let me.” Julian takes the box from Asra’s hands. He is so focused, using his talons to lever the box open, and Asra is awestruck by his tenderness, even with a simple box. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once it’s open he offers it back to Asra who doesn’t take it. “I want to kiss you, please,” Asra murmurs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pink spreads through Julian’s cheeks and nose. “Oh,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, Ilya? If you aren’t ready, I understand, I just--” Asra reaches out with his bound hands to run his fingers down Julian’s cheek. Julian fluffs up, biting his lip. “I want to show you how happy I am now that I’m here with you. I know you don’t trust me, I know it, but if you--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra blinks a few times in astonishment. “Er-- yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I’d, ah, like you to kiss me. If you don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he doesn’t hesitate-- Asra dives for him and kisses him. He wishes he could caress and hold, keep his love safe, but instead he can only rest his bound wrists in the feathery patch in the center of Julian’s chest, and press himself as close as possible, skin to skin. Asra licks inside Julian’s mouth, tasting musk and beer, and Julian’s answering groan makes him wish he was naked. He stretches his legs in an attempt to sit in Julian’s lap without the help of his hands. To his surprise, Julian helps him, cupping his ass in both spindly hands. When he pulls away, he breathes, “Ilya, I think I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too,” Julian whispers. “More than life itself. It’s always been you, my darling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t make me go. Ilya, I want to stay with you, as long as you’ll have me.” Asra rests his nose in the hollow of Julian’s neck, eyes closing, happiness flooding through his lungs and sending tremors through his limbs. He tries to lean into Julian’s touch in his hips, bending his spine like a bowstring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I’ll keep you here,” Julian chirps, and Asra purrs when he takes a chance and squeezes Asra’s cheeks between his fingers. “Even if you are the Devil, I could never throw you out. I’ll do anything to make you happy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra brushes gentle kisses against his collarbone between words. “And I’ll do anything for you. Never doubt it, dear heart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian removes one of his hands so he can tilt Asra’s head up to meet his eyes. Violet meets liquid iron. “Then let me scrub the floor,” he says with a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Ilya--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No buts. Your doctor orders you to sit back and rest for once.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, Asra climbs off Julian with a pout. “You’re abusing your power,” he complains. “I’ll get you back for this, mark my words, Devorak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you and your words.” Julian takes a pinch of soap and crumbles it into the nearby cleaning rag. His eyes don’t leave Asra until the magician is sitting down cross-legged on top of the bar. “There you are,” Julian teases, and resumes his scrubbing of the floorboards. “Forgive me, but I’ll be keeping the bell and the rope around you a little while longer. I hope you don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra sort of does mind since the rope is starting to irritate his skin, but he shakes his hand and answers, “I understand why, my love. If you feel the need to take precautions, I will obey any rules and restrictions you give me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian is nothing short of beaming as bright as the fresh-scrubbed wood. “You are different from the enchantments,” he replies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“While I slept, he haunted me with memories.” While Julian pushes the rag across the floor, he emits a visible shudder. “Terrible, wonderful memories of the visions he sent me. They felt so… real, Asra, just like you, just like when we… before Calamity, you know…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra tenses up. “I was terrible to you back then,” he mutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You may have made mistakes, but you were a saint compared to the Devil. No, he used our past against me. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> how you felt and so he didn’t have to pretend. So when he used me, it was… Asra, I craved it when he came. I craved you so much I was willing to play along if only he would let me relive those memories.” He glances up from his work, pleading, into Asra’s concerned face. “And that is why I can’t fathom </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, my lamb, your beauty, your compassion. You have changed from those days while he has trapped me in the past. I want to move forward, I do, I’m just-- just so scared--!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra hops down from the bar and sits across from Julian with a comforting smile. “I don’t blame you one bit. You can and will change, and I will be with you every step of the way. He won’t take advantage of you anymore if I have anything to say about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian tries to mirror Asra’s smile, though his comes out a little more nervous. “Thank you. And-- and if it takes me time-- would you wait for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“However long you need, I promise. Now give me the washcloth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-- hey! No!” Julian, laughing, brandishes it out of the way of Asra’s grabby hands. “You tricked me! No, go sit down!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra makes a melodramatic “hmph” and returns to his perch on the bar. Though he tries to feign annoyance, his heart is so light it could float right through his chest and burst through the ceiling. The way Julian is talking… he trusts him. At least for now, he trusts him, and that is one kind of magic the Devil cannot take away.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7 (NSFW)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Julian is twice as fast as Asra at cleaning, which shouldn’t make sense considering that Asra has never seen Julian clean once in his life before, yet with his help the floor is shining clean and two buckets of dirty water have been emptied back into the swamp. Asra takes periodic breaks due to the rope rubbing red rings on his wrists. After the fifth or so break of Asra wincing and watching Julian setting tables and chairs back up, his resident birdman says, “shall I take that off?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra perks up. He nods, relieved, and holds out his hands for Julian to take. Julian crosses the tavern in order to kneel beside Asra’s seat and saw through the ropes with his talons. “Does it hurt, love?” Julian asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It isn’t that bad,” Asra says, lying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think if you meant me any ill will you would have tried to act on it by now.” The final rope falls away. Julian takes Asra’s wrists in his palms, eyes widening when Asra moans dreamily down at him. “Er-- are you alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That feels good,” Asra replies, a tender smile floating across his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian blushes. The feathers on the back of his head ruffle up like a puffy collar. “You-- you want me to hold you like this? Would that feel good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra nods, closing his eyes. It’s true-- Julian’s cool skin against his irritated wounds feels like heaven. Julian rubs circles against Asra’s arteries with the pads of his thumbs and Asra groans with delight again. “Sweet creature,” he sings. “Please-- you’re wonderful, Ilya, so perfect, so beautiful--!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you-- should I-- that is to say, I--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra opens his eyes, smiling as he watches Julian fumble with his words, blushing from the tip of his hooked nose across his feather-freckled cheeks. At last, Julian chokes out, “I should take your bell off too!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sweetly, Asra tips his head backward, baring his throat for his love to admire. He can just make out Julian licking his lips before leaning forward and kissing his adam’s apple. It starts out light as a feather, so gentle it tickles, and then it melts into something desperate, hungry, as though Julian is a starving man presented with a creamy luxurious dessert. Asra is just a bit aware of Julian releasing his wrists in favor of cradling the back of his neck. He sings his praises to the infinite ceiling. “Ily-- Ilya</span>
  <em>
    <span>ahh</span>
  </em>
  <span>-- ngh! Dearest! Oh, Gods, oh Godsohhhh… p-please...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bell falls to the floor. Julian finishes his work with another series of barely-there kisses before replying, with dark heavy-lidded eyes, “what do you need?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ilya-- Ilya Ilya Ilya Ilya--” Asra is mewling now, helpless. “I want-- you! Want to touch you! Please?” He takes one of Julian’s hands from his neck so he can bury his face in it. “Oh please, if you’re ready, if you trust me, I’ll prove how I love you, Ilya, I’ll give you everything I have, I’ll make you a deity in the highest temple and worship you however you ask--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh, shh, it’s alright, I believe you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra is scared to meet Julian’s perfect eyes. He is a mess of heady desire and need and he feels it vibrating through his core, fluttering between his legs, teasing and stroking without reprieve. “I need-- need-- oh, Havalana, I’m so sorry, Ilya, I don’t mean to rush things, but seeing you and feeling you makes me so--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian plants a kiss on his cheek. “Come up to bed,” he murmurs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ilya--!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The breath escapes from his lungs as soon as Julian plucks him from his seat and hoisting him into the air. Julian uses one arm to slip under the crook of Asra’s knees and the other to hold his upper back. “I won’t be able to touch,” he continues as he carries Asra through the bar and up the stairs. “My nails are too dangerous. I don’t want to hurt you. But whatever you need from me, you may take. I’m all yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My dearest, I could never be afraid of you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian sets him down on the threadbare mattress as though he is made of spun sugar. He turns around and rummages in one of the drawers. “It’ll be like old times,” he teases, and withdraws another length of rope. “I’ll need you to tie my wrists back so I don’t get any ideas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra sits up, disheartened. “But I trust you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t trust me. My hands have minds of their own when you’re around. Think of it as retribution for the hardships I put you through, yes?” Julian hands Asra the rope with a comforting smile. “Anything you please as long as I am restrained.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He should have expected this. Asra gets up from the bed so Julian can lie down, hands obediently resting against the bedposts. If the doctor was tall before his transformation, it was nothing compared to his willowy limbs now, his scaly toes and talons adding extra length to his legs and his arms stretched almost as long as his wingspan. His feet dangle off the end of the bed. Both his wings are flattened, at least as much as they are allowed, folded under his back in some kind of expert origami. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Asra climbs up and straddles his waist, his feathers ruffle in excitement. “Relax,” Asra soothes, running the tips of his fingers up Julian’s left bicep to his wrist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian twitches reflexively to touch him, then realizes his mistake and averts his eyes, blushing. “You see?” he mumbles. “I’m weak to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you want this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are the only sure thing in this terrible stormy world, Asra, and I would be a fool to deny you. Tie me up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra obeys orders and ties one charcoal wrist to the bedpost, every so often peeking down to check that Julian isn’t uncomfortable. On the contrary, Julian’s eyelashes are fluttering in doll-like fashion, coquettish and hazy. When he begins to tie the first knot, Julian closes his eyes completely and mutters, “tighter, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re certain?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so certain!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra tugs and watches the corners of Julian’s mouth lift upward. “Like that? Does it hurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian is already consumed by his lovedrunk state, and he slurs in response, “yes, yes, so certain…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t go away, now. I want you to watch me.” Asra waits until Julian blinks the glaze from his eyes and focuses on him before he ties the knot at his wrist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of switching his attention to Julian’s untethered hand, he smirks and grinds down on Julian’s stomach, watching in satisfaction as his prey squirms beneath him. Again, Julian’s claws grasp at air. Asra rubs the inseam of his pants along Julian’s bony torso up and down and up again. “Good boy,” Asra praises.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All Julian can muster is a silent “oh my gods” in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now Asra continues his task, but he can’t resist watching Julian’s face as he does so. “Do you remember when I told you I have imagined you?” Asra asks. He loops the rope around Julian’s wrist. “Time passes so strangely here, but I can count the nights when I have thought of you. I recall the first night after magic descended upon our world… I was all alone, and I longed for comfort, for familiarity. Instead, I curled up in the hollow trunk of a tree and cast a protective spell around the roots. Faust slept clinging around my ankle like she did when she was a baby.” He tugs until the rope is taut, smiling at Julian’s happy squeak. “It was snowing, I think, but it was hot. The snow melted into puddles the moment it hit the ground.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steaming snow! Yes, I’ve seen it,” Julian cuts in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mind wandered to you. The tree I laid in felt like you, curled up around my body, keeping me safe from the elements. How is this? Too tight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian shakes his head, starstruck. “Perfect,” he breathes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I closed my eyes and imagined that you were there with me. And I… I couldn’t help myself, Ilya. I wanted you so badly. I fucked myself and bit my own fist to keep quiet.” Julian lets out a little gasp and Asra ties a knot between his wrist and the bedpost. “I imagined that it was your fingers inside of me, and your hand against my mouth, and I imagined your breath on my neck and whispering to me instead of the tropical wind. Only the moss beneath my back knew how I called your name until my throat went hoarse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gods,” Julian whimpers. “Oh, Gods, Asra, I don’t deserve this! I don’t deserve you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra shifts down from the headboard so he can plant a tender kiss against Julian’s protesting mouth. He lingers a breath away, resting his own lips beside Julian’s. “I love you,” Asra promises.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I d-don’t understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, Ilya. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You must understand that you deserve every good thing in this world.” Asra straightens up, even though Julian arches his back to try to follow him, and begins unbuttoning his tunic. His heart races just seeing the eagerness in Julian’s flushed face underneath. He goes slow, so slow that when at last he shrugs his shirt off his shoulders, Julian has to bite his own lip to muffle a whine. “Anxious, are we?” he teases.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian tries once more to crane his head up. It doesn’t work. He slumps backward against the pillow and grumbles, “I thought you were the one who was looking forward to this so damn much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to savor it. Stay put, dearest.” He climbs off Julian’s body and stands beside the window. The heat in his core is building already-- Gods, it’s been so long. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> this. Asra pulls off one boot, then two, then slips his fingers under the waistband of his pants and rolls his hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll drive me to madness, mark me,” Julian groans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m far too cruel to you. I don’t know why you put up with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra takes pity on him and takes his pants off the rest of the way. The way Julian watches him is enchanting, searching each outline of his body, as though meaning to memorize him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra joins him once more on the bed, sitting primly between his legs. Now Julian seems to realize the gravity of his situation. He fidgets, squeezes his thighs together, stuttering a pitiful, “what are you d-doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you might like to be preened a bit… down there. Before we… because the Devil forbade you from touching yourself, so I assumed… er, only if you wish it, of course!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian swallows. He nods and spreads his legs. “Go on,” he chirps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That newfound trust is warm and soft between them, like wisps of fragrant steam from a bath. Stress ebbs from Asra’s muscles. He leans forward to examine the place between Julian’s legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra closes his mouth. This wasn’t what he was expecting, to be sure, but showing any sign of discomfort might scare Julian away and they would have to start from square one. The feathers here are short, downy, much like the silky untouched skin one might have in this area. A bright pink ring stands out from the darkness of the surrounding feathers. It’s flushed, fluttering, shining, begging. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Julian asks, and Asra’s heart hurts to hear the pain in his voice. “Is it horrible? Be honest, my angel, please...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asra crawls forward, up Julian’s torso, to his face, so he can smile and reply, “Ilya, you’re so very beautiful. I can’t wait to spoil you.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8 (NSFW)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A tense sigh escapes from Julian’s chest. His features relax. He watches Asra crawl back down with far less scrutiny. Asra combs his fingers through the downy feathers beside his left thigh, delicate and cautious. Beneath his hand Julian jolts and twitches. “D-don’t stop!” he squawks when Asra hesitates. “It’s lovely, oh it is!”</p><p>“You’ll stop me if it’s too much?”</p><p>“Yes! I will, it’s just-- mm, sensitive. Feels good.”</p><p>Asra continues his stroking again. He finds his gaze trailing back to Julian’s-- cloaca?-- even when he tries to look away, mesmerized by its tiny pulsing movements, like that of a heart. Something that must be precum has slicked the skin until it catches the winered light of the clouds outside. “Shall I clean it?” he murmurs.</p><p>Julian squirms. “I-- yes, I suppose-- that would be best. There’s rags in the bathroom-- the faucet, it works well enough--”</p><p>“I want to kiss you there,” Asra croons, watching the flesh beside his hand flicker with each word. “Until it’s swollen and red and dripping, and then I want to lick it clean. Would you allow it?”</p><p>“Allow it,” Julian parrots feebly. “Allow it? By everything holy, I would kill for the chance!”</p><p>Grinning, Asra lopes over Julian’s leg so he can head to the bathroom. “You use your words so prettily, my darling,” Asra remarks. He takes a handtowel from beside the rusted bathtub and holds it under the faucet, which lets water out by the droplet. While he waits he continues his musings. “I want you to promise to use them, do you understand? If I do something right, you must tell me. If I do something wrong, you must tell me. I want to learn your body.”</p><p>“You’re exquisite,” Julian croaks.</p><p>“Promise me you’ll tell me, dear heart. I won’t do a thing without your approval.”</p><p>Julian seems to be at an utter loss for his trusty words at the moment. He twists his arms in his restraints. “I-- I promise, but--”</p><p>“No buts. I’m serious, Ilya. I don’t want to move too fast and frighten you.” Now that the cloth in his fist is soaked through, he brings it back into the bedroom, careful to keep it contained. Asra reaches between Julian’s legs. This time, Julian is eager to allow him access. “Oh-- the water is cold. Are you ready? Should I warm it in my hands first?”</p><p>Julian smiles. “I appreciate your concern, but I think I can handle a bit of cold.”</p><p>So Asra doesn’t hesitate when he presses the towel into the sea of downy feathers, and the air catches in his throat when Julian tosses his head back and cries out a throaty, “fuck!”</p><p>“You can handle a bit of cold, can you?” Asra jokes.</p><p>“Colditscolditshnnnnnn--!”</p><p>Asra rubs the cloth in gentle circles, circumnavigating the tender ring of flesh with as much delicacy as he can muster. Julian looks like he might orgasm from the stimulation alone. “You really are so beautiful,” Asra sings. “Oh, I could watch you for years, how you look right now!”</p><p>Although Julian seems like he wants to answer, his response comes in incoherent babbles, caught somewhere between “angel” and “Asra”.</p><p>“Don’t cum yet. I want to kiss you until you come undone and drink your spend, or have you forgotten?”</p><p>Since Julian is still trapped, Asra removes the towel and waits for Julian to catch his breath. His cloaca is already flushed red as a beacon. “Want to-- want to c-cum, As-ra-- ple-please--”</p><p>Asra tosses the cloth aside to the floor and wastes no time in bowing his head to lave his tongue around the outer rim. Once more, Julian is reduced to moaning and thrashing into the mattress. The downy feathers against Asra’s nose smell of that familiar musky teakwood, intoxicating him, pulling him deeper under Julian’s trance. Bitter salty precum slicks Asra’s lips like gloss. His teeth scrape against the pulsing flesh and Julian <em>shrieks</em>.</p><p>“Don’t stop don’t <em>haaaah</em>-- lover-- sweetest <em>hmn</em> dream-- my <em>ghahfuck</em>--!”</p><p>Asra presses the flat of his tongue against Julian’s velvety skin. It throbs against his tongue, beating an enthusiastic staccato rhythm, faster and faster and unrelenting. He pulls away only to come back and kiss it. Eyes closing, he relaxes his jaw and clenches once more, creating an airtight suction against the swollen ring. Julian convulses once, twice, before collapsing into a puddle. Grateful sobs from the other side of the bed come with the flood of cum in Asra’s mouth. Asra pulls away with a tired smile. “That was lovely,” he pants.</p><p>Julian screws his eyes shut and groans. “That was--no, I’m sorry, I meant to last longer-- it just felt so perfect, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”</p><p>To reassure him, Asra nuzzles the sticky patch of feathers matted with spend, lapping at it gingerly to avoid pulling out any stray down. After he swallows he says, “you taste like ambrosia, Ilya.”</p><p>“I’ll help you, Asra, I’ll give you whatever you need-- use me, however you wish!” Julian struggles in his ropes. He withholds another wail. “Love, my love, tell me!”</p><p>Asra smacks his lips, relishing the quiver that ripples through Julian’s too-long limbs. “I wished for your fingers to bring me to orgasm, just as I dreamed so long ago,” he says softly, “but my own fingers will do, if you are still hesitant to touch me. If I could hold you, dear heart, kiss you while I fall apart, that would be heaven.”</p><p>Julian nods with a relieved “of course” and rearranges himself as much as he can so Asra can scootch up and plaster himself to Julian’s torso. His pussy aches from neglect but he denies himself release in order to snuggle into the crook of Julian’s neck. “There, my turtledove,” Julian whispers. The tears have dried from the corners of his eyes. “You’re so sweet, so good, my little lamb…”</p><p>Asra kisses his feathery collarbone with the reverence of a priest. As his lips work, he arches his back, working his hand into the wet folds between his legs. He falters in his ministrations as delight shocks his core. “Ngh--”</p><p>“Up, love. I want to see your face.”</p><p>This sudden change of roles makes Asra’s heart skip a beat. He isn’t the one tied up and on the bottom, so why is he the one submitting to his partner’s every will? Even so, he hastens to obey, and lifts his head to meet Julian’s hungry eyes. “There you are,” Julian purrs. Asra chokes back a moan. He didn’t mean for Julian to notice, yet notice he does, because he smirks and adds, “Now now, why so quiet, kitten? Don’t keep those adorable noises to yourself.”</p><p>Asra can’t swallow down the “oh!” that flies from his swollen lips.</p><p>“Another finger, perhaps?”</p><p>Snowy hair falls into Asra’s eyes from his vigorous nodding. He doesn’t waste another moment in pushing another finger inside himself. He’s sloppy, he’s spilling down his hand, and it smells of salty sex and sweat.</p><p>“There... ohh, dearest, there... imagine those are my fingers, curling inside of you, pulling those pretty sounds from your lips; imagine us in a domestic world, and my talons are trimmed down so that I’ll never nick your skin ever again, and I’ve come home from work-- right there? Mm? Crook your fingers, just like that again.”</p><p>Asra wants to listen, he wants to be good, but his pussy is fluttering and sucking at his fingers and it’s so unfair! He gropes inside himself. Julian warbles in appreciation. “Il-ya-<em>haaah</em>,” Asra whimpers.</p><p>“What is it? Come, tell me.” Julian cranes his neck to kiss a line up the side of Asra’s neck. Asra cries and collapses back onto Julian’s chest, trembling, unable to support himself anymore with his free arm.</p><p>“Il-- Ilya-- fuck, I c-can’t--”</p><p>Julian crooks one of his own legs to push at Asra’s thighs. “Grind down on me. Use me. We don’t want any cramped fingers, do we?”</p><p>Asra snaps his hips to Julian’s bony ones at once. He begins a frenzied dance to a frantic beat and nothing else matters except for the new burning against his swollen clitoris. “T-tell me more about-- about us,” Asra pants. “About-- home? Together?”</p><p>A smile spreads across Julian’s thin lips. “Home, my treasure, yes. I’ll spend most days at the clinic, of course, and you’ll stay at the shop keeping things open and working. Every night, when I come flying home, I’ll scoop you up in my arms--”</p><p>“Can you fly?” Asra interrupts.</p><p>“I haven’t tried, but these wings can’t just be for decoration, can they?”</p><p>Asra adds a third finger inside and his giggle comes out breathier than he expected.</p><p>“Yes, I’ll fly across all of Vesuvia just to come back to you without fail. I’ll carry you up the stairs and you won’t have to lift a finger. I’ll be at your beck and call, your personal servant night and day, and whatever you say will come into being without fail.” Julian closes his eyes and leans his head back. “You won’t even have to leave the bed if you don’t want to. I’ll clean, cook, serve you…” His eyes fly open and he grins, glancing down at Asra. “Mm? My, what a messy little kitten. Are you very close?”</p><p>Asra’s face was already pink from exertion, but now it’s deepening to fuschia at the realization that his precum is slicking Julian’s stomach. He buries his nose in the patch of feathers in the center of Julian’s chest and mewls. </p><p>“Oh, Asra, my Gods you’re divine. I wish I could hold you as you orgasm.”</p><p>“You c-could-- you ngk-- untie--”</p><p>Julian sighs wistfully. “But my talons-- no, it wouldn’t do, I can’t give in. I’d lose control, I’d hurt you… I can’t risk it.”</p><p>Can’t give in? That sounds an awful lot like a challenge. Asra shifts in his position, and, with the last of his concentration, takes one of Julian’s nipples into his mouth. Gone is Julian’s temporary domineering attitude to be replaced with anguished arousal. He’s howling with delight, and Asra’s heart soars at the sound, and--</p><p>It’s Asra’s turn to scream. Stars blink in and out of focus. He clenches, pussy throbbing again and again, suckling the joints of his fingers, until he crumples, boneless, weightless, back down to Julian’s familiar warmth. Julian is praising him… he thinks. It’s hard to make out any words through this steamy summer haze. Something rips overhead. Asra feels spindly hands running up and down his back, settling in the little curve between his spine and his ass. He arches up into the touch with a sleepy smile. “Mm-- Ilya? Is that you?”</p><p>“I’m afraid rope can’t hold me down if I don’t want to be held down. If I want to hold someone, for a change.”</p><p>Asra plants his lips against Julian’s chest. “Saying I love you… it doesn’t seem enough,” he mumbles. “What’s a word… bigger than love?”</p><p>Julian takes a moment to consider him. He uses his thumbs to trace tiny circles around the dimples of Asra’s ass. “How about… Asra?” he offers.</p><p>“Mm?”</p><p>“A word bigger than love. Asra. How does that sound?”</p><p>Asra snickers into Julian’s skin. “That’s so sappy, Ilya!”</p><p>“I’m afraid I can’t help it, precious. You bring out my soft side without my knowing it.” Julian shifts up, so that Asra is seated comfortably on his lap. “Do you need the bathroom? Some water?”</p><p>Despite being so cozy, Asra peels himself away, sitting back on his heels. His gaze wanders downward. “And you?” he asks, gesturing to Julian’s tight circle of flesh, which is pink and pulsing from lust once more.</p><p>Julian chuckles and shuffles in his seat. “Er-- oh my, this is embarrassing. I can do it myself, you mustn't feel the need to--”</p><p>But Asra is already approaching once more. He touches his nose to Julian’s pointed one and uses the tips of his fingers to massage Julian’s cloaca. “As much as you want,” Asra lilts. Julian’s face is pure euphoria. They stay this way for minutes on end, Asra using his palm, his knuckles, the pads of his fingers to fondle that little pillow of nerve endings. His fingers are starting to cramp up but Julian’s reaction is reward enough to compel him forward. Again, it takes a remarkably short amount of time to coax him to orgasm, and when he does, he’s loud and shaking, and again Asra guides him through his turmoil with delicate movements and adoring smiles. Julian collapses back against the wall with a heaving chest and doped-up smile.</p><p>“Asra-- sweetest love-- I could die, I could die and I would be so happy--!”</p><p>“But I want you to hold me while I sleep. You can’t die now, okay? Promise?”</p><p>“Ahh… you drive a hard bargain. I promise.”</p><p>Asra leaves Julian to his contentment so he can relieve himself in the bathroom. It’s a little weird to have to clean little feathers from his swollen labia, but here he is. He wouldn’t have it any other way. He can hear Julian in the other room, humming an unfamiliar tune, and the bed creaking signals him stretching out like some sort of gargantuan clinging vine. When was the last time he felt so happy? Surely, it was before the Devil’s terrible curse, but even with Calamity, he doesn’t recall being so wholly delighted.</p><p>He exits the bathroom and surveys Julian sprawled out on the bed. “What was that tune?” he asks. “It was very pretty.”</p><p>Julian’s eyes are closed, but he pats the mattress with a muttered, “not sure… it just came to me.”</p><p>Asra cuddles up into Julian’s side, under one of his arms, fixing himself to Julian’s greying skin and feathers as though he could crawl inside and never leave. A single sharp-clawed hand strokes his hair absentmindedly. “Stay,” Asra whispers, half-asking.</p><p>“Forever, Asra.”</p><p>His eyes close. One by one, slow but sure, his senses dissipate into tender nothingness.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Julian wakes up kneeling down. He lifts his head up and shivers at the sight before him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re feeling proud of yourself, beast,” Asra mocks from his throne. His naked glittering body is draped in thick black chains and his eyes pierce scarlet through the smoke. He looks like a god.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why are you here?” Julian mutters.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Wasn’t it you who said that I am a fallen star who walks among the wretched? You are beyond wretched. I am here to put you back in your pitiful place.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Julian might have cried out. He might have prostrated himself at Asra’s feet. Instead, he steels his features into a scowl. “You… you have no right to put me anywhere,” he hisses.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Asra bares his teeth. “My terrible abomination, you forget who you speak to!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know exactly who you are! If there’s a m-monster here, it’s you!” Julian rises from his kneeling position and tenses his talons, ready to fight. From his new position at the level of Asra’s eyes, he can see Asra’s skin rippling and fading, as though he is nothing more than a shadowy mirage. “You aren’t my love. You tried to keep him from me because you knew-- you knew he would bring my strength back. You, Devil, disgust me.” And he spits at the Devil’s feet.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The Devil snarls, his lovely face contorting into something inhuman, pale, animalistic. His knuckles tense on the sides of his throne as his hands lengthen into monstrous claws. “I’ll rip your precious magician limb from limb!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll tear your ugly arms from their sockets before you get the chance!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The Devil lunges for him. Razor-sharp nails clash against each other. With a single flap of his wings, Julian propels himself back, tugging the Devil down to the floor right on his face. He stomps one scaly foot in the square of the Devil’s back. “We’ll destroy everything you’ve built,” Julian snarls. “You’ll be nothing but a card in a deck. Now I’m waking up, so I can see my beloved in my arms, and revel in the fact that you’ll never know happiness like that in your miserable life.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Smoke whirls around him. A gravelly voice screams in his ears, but is drowned out by the wind and haze, picking him up and carrying him away.</em>
</p><p>--</p><p>Asra wakes up to a delicate trail of kisses down his spine. Julian’s heavy breaths and tiny pleased moans punctuate the sleepy silence. He pretends to sleep for a little while longer, savoring Julian’s butterfly touches and barely-there kisses. A claw comes to rest on his thigh and squeezes possessively. It sends a thrill up Asra’s naked torso and cracks his facade, and Julian chuckles. “Did you sleep well, my angel?” he cooes.</p><p>“I can’t remember the last time I slept so sweetly. And you?”</p><p>“Mm. I got up a little bit ago, but I didn’t want to wake you, so I tried to be quiet. You were just too pretty and I couldn’t resist.”</p><p>Asra grins. It takes some effort, but he manages to flop onto his back so he can stare up into Julian’s face, squinting like he’s looking into the sun. “Ilya,” he breathes. “You’re smiling.”</p><p>Julian mirrors Asra’s own delight as he cups Asra’s cheek in his palm. “You’re <em>here</em>.”</p><p>“You look… different. A good different. What happened to you?”</p><p>Julian runs his thumb over Asra’s bottom lip. Eager to please, Asra parts his lips and licks at the pad of Julian’s finger, and closes his eyes and sucks when Julian slips inside. “Now, my innocent turtledove,” he whispers, “a showman cannot reveal all of his secrets, even for an alluring incubus such as yourself.”</p><p>Both frosted eyelashes flutter open and bat coyly as Asra relaxes his lips and nips at Julian’s thumb. He hums a lewd little hum.</p><p>“You aren’t playing fair. Do I need to tie that bell around your neck again?”</p><p>“Mm-mmph!”</p><p>“Fuck, I love you.”</p><p>Asra pulls off Julian’s finger with a winsome <em>pop</em>. He makes certain to leave a fragile string of saliva connecting his bottom lip to the tip of Julian’s talon. He adores the way Julian’s eyelids lower, lusty and devout, he adores the way Julian freezes in place as though he’s afraid he’ll startle Asra away, he adores the way his black feathers ruffle up in excitement. “Speechless for once, Ilya?” he giggles.</p><p>Julian swoops down and kisses him long and hard. It’s full of tongue and teeth and Asra wouldn’t have it any other way. Asra reaches up to comb through the feathers on the back of Julian’s head-- the long ones, the ones stiffening with arousal by the second. When they break apart, Julian pants, “chains.”</p><p>“Er-- chains?”</p><p>“The chains. The ones around me, around the Raven, forged by the Devil. You can break them, can’t you? And we can go back to see Pasha and Mazelinka?”</p><p>Asra grins. “Oh, Ilya, yes! You really want to leave this place with me? You would trust me, follow me?”</p><p>“To the ends of the earth and beyond, Asra. Anywhere that you tell me.”</p><p>It seems so long ago that Asra arrived at the Rowdy Raven. He had asked if Julian would accept his help, would leave his safehouse to see his family, and Julian had scoffed at him. Now he beams at the prospect. “Then we haven’t a moment to lose,” Asra replies. “I’ll get dressed and check the chains around the building first. The Devil’s energy field only seems to affect me inside, so I should be able to break them with a bit of concentration.”</p><p>He has to de-tangle himself from Julian’s limbs and Julian certainly doesn’t make it easy. It takes him a little stretching and rearranging but eventually he makes it out in one piece. He stoops down and plucks his clothes from the floor, which have been folded in preparation for him. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything to eat, would you?” Asra inquires.</p><p>“I haven’t felt the need to eat in… I don’t know how long. Drink keeps me satiated.”</p><p>“To tell the truth, I haven’t been hungry either, as though I’m in a dream. I’ll look outside. We should try to get something down for the journey ahead.” Asra starts with his shirt, then continues with his pants and boots.</p><p>Julian watches him in awe. “Do you think… when we get back… I could wear clothes? There isn’t much need, I suppose, because of the feathers, but it would be very nice and normal. I’d feel like a man again.”</p><p>Asra laces up one boot. “Of course! It shouldn’t be too difficult to tailor something for you!”</p><p>“We’ll have to account for the wings.”</p><p>Asra reaches over and runs his palm over one of the said wings. “Such beautiful things shouldn’t be kept out of sight,” he muses.</p><p>Julian’s feathers rustle pleasantly under his touch. He turns away, blushing, and mumbles, “flatterer.” Even so, when Asra withdraws to finish getting dressed, he’s fidgeting with embarrassment. “You don’t suppose Pasha will be scared of them, do you?”</p><p>He doesn’t even have to think about the answer. Asra laughs and replies, “Ilya, don’t take this the wrong way, but your sister is ten times braver than you. I think if anybody is going to be fine with your transformation, it’s her.”</p><p>“Heh. No, you’re right.”</p><p>“I’m off to do some chain-breaking and foraging. Don’t fly away.” </p><p>“I wouldn’t dream of it.”</p><p>Now that both boots are on, Asra leaves the room with a new spring in his step. He skips down the stairs and hurries to the tavern door. Satisfaction courses through his veins, shooting adrenaline to the very tips of his fingers and tingling in his toes. When he throws the door open, he welcomes the foggy red light and stretching tree branches and cloudy swampwater, and he even runs a finger along a strand of hanging moss. Everything is welcoming now. He strolls around the perimeter of the Rowdy Raven, examining the chains only visible when they reflect light. </p><p>Magical aura swirls around him once more. It feels like welcoming a hug from an old friend, and he breathes a sigh of relief as it comes back to him. Power ripples across his skin. Oh yes, this should be incredibly easy.</p><p>He reaches out for the closest chain, which is taut across one of the frosted windows. When he touches it, it solidifies in his hand, pitchblack and rusted. Energy crackles to life in his fingers. The chain glows white, brighter, brighter, until the link against his palm shatters, and the remainder of the chain slithers away. One down, about fifty to go.</p><p>Asra takes a few steps to the left, to the next chain, and approaches it with even more confidence than the first when--</p><p>“Pray tell, what is such a darling little kitten doing all alone in these unforgiving woods?”</p><p>Asra gasps as two spindly gloved hands snake around his chest and a pointed nose presses to his neck. Waves of hair tickle Asra’s cheek. Against his back, a lithe torso curls around him, skin separated only by a thin layer of cloth. “I-- Ilya?” he yelps.</p><p>“At your service, as ever,” Julian Devorak answers into his skin.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10 (NSFW) (dubcon warning)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Asra freezes in place, rooted to the ground, locked in this most delicate of embraces. “But-- how?” he asks. “How are you outside? I thought the chains-- and your <em>hands</em>-- Ilya, you’re--”</p><p>“Don’t tell me you liked the feathers and scales more,” Julian snickers.</p><p>“I-- well, I--” Words fail him when Ilya kisses his neck, so very carefully, as though performing a surgery. “Ahhh-- ohh, Ilya--”</p><p>Julian slips his hands under Asra’s shirt to toy with his nipples. He rolls each one gently between his fingers, pinching just enough to harden them, enough to make Asra’s breathing labored and coax delighted sighs from his chest. Asra leans back into Julian’s embrace to keep from buckling to the ground. Julian’s lips release his skin.</p><p>“You always said you adored my hands,” Julian teases.</p><p>“I do I do I-- but I don’t understand, Ilya, I don’t understa--<em>gyah</em>!” He jumps as one of his nipples is pinched between two leather fingers.</p><p>“I don’t <em>need</em> you to understand, my innocent one, I need you to feel. I need you to belong to me. Can you do that?”</p><p>Asra bites his lip. Pleasure is crushing over him in sugary waves, and Ilya is so warm and wonderful, and-- and-- “This isn’t right,” he whispers. “This… this is a trick. I know it.”</p><p>“Silly pet, your mind is the one playing tricks on you.” Julian takes mercy on one of his nipples and releases it, with the intention to trail down his abdomen and slip under his waistband. Against his own will, Asra’s hips try to rise to meet Julian’s fingers, and Julian smiles against his cheek. “Shall I go on?” he croons. “Or would you like something different, perhaps? My mouth? My cock?”</p><p>“I-- I don’t know!”</p><p>Julian’s gloved fingers comb through the patch of hair just above Asra’s pussy and his other hand tugs at his hardened nipple. “Come away with me,” Julian sings into his ear. “Come away, safe and sound, where nobody can ever find us. I’ll cater to your every will. I’ll adore you night and day, forever and ever and ever. Come away.”</p><p>Though his heart hurts to decline, Asra shakes his head. “Who are you?” he whimpers.</p><p>“Ever yours, my deity, ever yours.”</p><p>“But-- no, but you aren’t Ilya!”</p><p>Julian’s laugh is like bells. Asra forces Julian’s hands away and stumbles into the wall of the Raven, cornered. Now that Asra can look him up and down, he feels more uncertain by the second. Julian is tall as ever, dressed in his trademark black pants, leather gloves, and billowing white shirt. Both his eyes are bright and grey and plague-free. His auburn hair is tossed to the side, reflecting the light and framing his high cheekbones. “Now, what’s the matter?” Julian presses. He takes a few steps closer and places both hands on either side of Asra, trapping him. </p><p>“I can’t,” Asra whispers. There’s a burning lump in his throat.</p><p>“Can’t what?”</p><p>“Please, I-- please! I can’t hurt you! Please leave us alone!”</p><p>Julian looks around the swamp. “Us?” he repeats. “I see only you and I. There must not be a soul in these parts for miles.”</p><p>“Ilya is inside! Ilya is here! You aren’t him, you aren’t, you aren’t!”</p><p>“If what you say is true, then push me away. Put me in my place.” Julian leans forward beside Asra’s face, grey irises meeting violet, and his smile makes Asra want to swoon. “Go on, kitten.”</p><p>“Please,” Asra whines.</p><p>Julian kisses him. It tastes of hot ash and blood, and yet it tastes of <em>Julian too</em>, which makes Asra’s stomach twist. Asra licks into his mouth to chase his own release and Julian is pliant as ever to indulge him. Julian’s teeth are no longer predator-sharp, but normal, dull, and it’s so much easier to worship his mouth in this way. In an instant, Julian’s hands are back to adoring his body. This time Julian grips the meat of his ass and pushes his own narrow hips against Asra’s.</p><p>Asra is the first to break away in order to catch his breath, and Julian admires his flushed face with a grin. “Better?” Julian remarks.</p><p>“Th-this isn’t right, I-- I have to go!”</p><p>“Go where? You have nowhere to go. You belong to me, and only me.”</p><p>A single tear escapes Asra’s eye. “Yes,” he chokes. “I d-o, I do, but-- oh, Ilya!”</p><p>Julian brushes the tear from his cheek and presses his forehead to Asra’s. “I need you to do something for me. I need you to ask me to take you away.”</p><p>“Away… away…”</p><p>“Yes, pet, away to our secret sanctuary, so that I can keep you safe. Would you like that?”</p><p>Asra closes his eyes. He can picture it now-- just as they discussed, a domestic life, just the two of them… “Yes, Ilya,” he answers.</p><p>“Then say it, my good sweet thing.”</p><p>“I want… please take… me...” Asra screws his features tight, and at last shakes his head. “No!” he screams, and with all his might, shoves Julian away. Magic forces Julian’s body through the air and flings him back-first against a tree several meters away. Asra takes the opportunity to sprint back to the tavern door, throw it open, and slam it closed, panting and weeping. He leans his body against the door and clamps down on the handle to keep it from opening.</p><p>From upstairs, there is a rustling. “Asra! You’re back so soon! How did it go? Are we going on our merry way so soon?”</p><p>Asra claps a hand over his mouth. What would Julian say? What would Julian think if he told him what happened? What <em>did</em> just happen?</p><p>“Asra? Is that you?”</p><p>Far too soon, Julian comes into view down the stairs, and Asra clutches his own heart. He knows he’s already broken down but it might not be too late to come up with a convincing lie. Before he can think of one, however, he’s swept up in a feathery embrace and brought to his knees in Julian’s bony lap. Two great wings spread around them and block out the light on all sides. “What happened?” Julian asks. “Breathe, slow, yes, like that. In and out. In and out. Good. Now, are you hurt?”</p><p>Asra shakes his head.</p><p>“What happened out there?”</p><p>“I-- I d-don’t-- I-- Ilya!” He wails and clings to Julian for dear life. Tears come thick and fast and uncontrollable. “There’s something out there, Ilya, it came to me-- as you were, before-- it held and kissed me, Ilya, and I knew it wasn’t you but I-- oh, Gods, forgive me!”</p><p>“Asra, I don’t understand. Slow down.”</p><p>Asra grits his teeth. Julian is so perfect, so perfect, and so soft and so loving and tender and Asra should be put to death for what he’s done! “Something took your form,” he cries. “Something… asked me to go away with it.”</p><p>Julian wraps his arms around Asra’s back, as though he’s afraid Asra might try to run. “Go away where?” he asks. The tone of his voice is utterly unreadable, and it scared Asra to death.</p><p>“Away from here-- somewhere secret, it said, it wanted to k-keep me-- oh, but I wanted to be kept! I wanted to say yes!”</p><p>There is no reply to this. Julian sweeps Asra’s bangs off his forehead so he can press his lips to his skin. The next lungful of air Asra takes in is shaky and stinging.</p><p>“B-but I didn’t, you see? I didn’t! I knew it wasn’t you, so I pushed it away and--” Asra’s nails are digging into Julian’s skin now from his tension. “It must b-be out there still! What are we going to do? What if it tries to come in and t-take me? Or hurt you? What if I led it here by using magic?”</p><p>“It’s my fault,” Julian whispers.</p><p>Asra wasn’t expecting <em>that</em> response. He opens his eyes in an attempt to meet Julian’s gaze, but Julian’s talons press him back into his chest. “Ilya? What--”</p><p>“It’s all my fault, Asra, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll take care of everything, I promise.”</p><p>“But--”</p><p>“You said that he’s outside?”</p><p>Asra’s crying ceases, more out of confusion than anything. “Yes, but Ilya, I don’t understand! What do you mean, it’s your fault? It appeared out of nowhere--”</p><p>Julian hushes him. Asra wishes he would let him see his face. Gingerly, Julian lifts Asra up to his feet, still embracing him in his wings. “Listen to me carefully, my love,” he says, and Asra can feel his pulse racing. “I want you to go upstairs. There are some handkerchiefs in the top drawer by the bed that you can use to plug your ears. Don’t come down here for <em>anything</em>, do you understand? No matter if I scream, if I beg for you, if I cry-- you will not look at me, let alone approach me. If I come up to you, I want you to ask me something only I would know. He has seen my memories but he picks and chooses what he remembers for himself.”</p><p>“He--? Ilya, do you mean--”</p><p>“And if I cannot answer you, I want you to do everything in your power to escape the Rowdy Raven with your life, and-- and tell Pasha that I love her, and I wish I could have seen her again.”</p><p>Asra wiggles free from Julian’s grip so he can look up into his face. “Ilya, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”</p><p>There’s a knock at the door. Julian’s wings fly back, and both he and Asra jerk their heads toward the door. “Go!” Julian hisses.</p><p>“I’m not going anywhere!”</p><p>Julian growls. It’s so monstrous, so deep, it makes Asra gasp. Two pairs of claws seize him around the middle and whisk him upward. Asra squeaks and struggles. “Ilya! Put me down! Let me help you!”</p><p>“I’ll explain everything later! You’re staying upstairs where I know you’re safe!”</p><p>Asra tries to stop his captor by attempting to pry his arms apart, and when that doesn’t work, he flails his feet in an attempt to trip Julian up. “Ilya, who is that? What do they want?”</p><p>They’re at the stairs now, and, grumbling, Julian hugs Asra to his chest to keep him still. “The Devil is back,” he says.</p><p>“The-- oh, Gods! Ilya, you can’t do this yourself! I want to help, I want to--”</p><p>“We seem to have a habit of having to tie each other up, don’t we? I’ll tie you to the bed and I’ll be done by the time you’re finished freeing yourself.”</p><p>“<em>No</em>! Let me go! I swear your pride will be the death of you! If you think I’m going to sit idly by, you’ve got another thing coming!” As soon as Julian sets him down on the ground, he tries to run back to the stairs, and is caught once more like a mouse in a trap. Rope from earlier is laying on the ground by the bed, and Julian plucks it and uses it to wrap around Asra’s ankle and fix it to a bedpost. As soon as he’s done, Asra sets to work trying to undo the knots.</p><p>Julian lingers by his side for only a moment to whisper, “I love you,” before rushing back down the stairs.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>While Asra works to undo the knots near his boot, he strains to hear the voices from downstairs. They’re muffled through the floorboards and sound hauntingly similar to each other. Asra’s fingers, usually so steady, are fumbling with his restraints as he picks at the rope with his nails. At least there aren’t any telltale signs of fighting. He glances around, hoping for something that can cut through these sailors knots, and of course there is nothing. His heart hammers away in his chest and sends tremors through his limbs. </p><p>Julian’s voice rings upstairs, calling Asra’s name, and he claps his own palm over his mouth to keep from answering. The Devil has spent so much time with him, he has copied Julian’s mannerisms to perfection, from the way his voice lilts at the end of Asra’s name to the sweet singsong way he pronounces it. It hurts to keep himself from Julian. It stings in his heart to be up here. There’s a thud downstairs, a ripping sound, a grunt… they must be fighting now. Asra tries to hurry up untying himself.</p><p><em>Crash!</em> Something shatters, and Asra winces. Who’s winning? Would he even be able to tell who’s winning? And what if Julian <em>loses</em>?</p><p>Asra has loosened the first knot in the pile. He wills the magic from the outside into his hands, hoping against all hope that this time he will be able to cast a spell. He feels so useless without his magic. In fact, if he did manage to free himself and run downstairs in time, he might be more of a hindrance.</p><p>“Asra! I n-need your help!” a voice shrieks downstairs.</p><p>Asra grits his teeth. No, it’s a trick-- but is it? Does Julian really need his help? “Stay up there, Asra! Don’t come down for anything!” another voice yells, breathy and high. </p><p>He works his fingers faster and faster. He’ll know Julian when he sees him… won’t he? He’ll be able to tell without issue, won’t he?</p><p>There’s an anguished wail downstairs. “Hold on, I’m coming!” Asra calls, almost against his better judgement.</p><p>“Help! Please, he’s--<em>unf</em>!”</p><p>“Ilya! Wait, wait, I’m coming!” He’s desperate now and doubles his attempts.</p><p>All of a sudden, the telltale grunts and blows are silent. Asra is so close to finishing with the knots, he only needs a minute more. Sweat beads on his forehead. “Ilya?” he shouts.</p><p>Slow creaking footsteps fall, one after the other, up the stairs. His heart speeds up even more. The final knot isn’t falling, probably due to his trembling fingers.</p><p>Julian’s wings drag behind him. His face is bloody, scratched up, feathers torn askew and some are even torn out entirely. He pauses a few paces away from Asra, pain crossed with inscrutable determination. “My dearest,” Asra breathes. “Oh, Gods, what has he done to you? Is he gone?”</p><p>Julian reaches down to the rope and saws it in two. Didn’t he say something before the fight…? Something about asking him a question? Asra doesn’t care. As soon as he’s freed, he leaps into Julian’s arms. “Ilya, thank everything good you’re alright. I was so worried… you can’t do that again, I’m serious…”</p><p>Possessive claws stroke through his hair, then tighten around his head to press Asra to his breast. “You’re so warm,” Julian rasps.</p><p>“Where has he hurt you? I’ll treat it. Just give me directions, and I’ll do it.”</p><p>“Come… come away…”</p><p>There’s a screech, a disgusting tearing sound, and Julian is thrown from Asra’s arms down to the floor by--</p><p>Asra stumbles backward. It’s the other Julian, and the fury in his eyes could burn straight through flesh. He stomps his taloned feet down into his prey’s stomach, who lets out a pained caw. “Never touch him again,” Julian snarls. Asra realizes with a gasp that his talons are bloody, and there is a flesh puddle of blood on the floor. “If you thought you could keep me down there, you’re dead wrong.”</p><p>“Asra-- Asra, please!” the Julian on the floor whimpers, catching his eye.</p><p>“Don’t listen to him. He’s trying to get in your head again. I’ll take care of this.”</p><p>Asra lets out a muffled sob behind his hand. He closes his eyes, shakes his head, trying to get his thoughts in order… their plan…</p><p>That’s it. His eyes snap open. “How do I take my tea?” he asks.</p><p>The Julian on the ground looks wildly confused, while the one standing on top of him answers at once. “Lapsang souchong, honey and milk, or two sugars.”</p><p>A dam of anxiety has been broken, and relief floods out, exuding outward from Asra’s face. “Ilya,” he whispers.</p><p>“You’ve got to be kidding,” the Julian below grumbles. “That is the most ridiculous--”</p><p>He is cut off by a footstool to the face, courtesy of the magician. Asra draws back with a growl. “You can’t use much magic, can you? The field affects you too? All you can manage is basic illusory magic in here.”</p><p>The Devil bares his fangs and Asra threatens him with the stool again. “Answer me! Otherwise, you would have killed Ilya in seconds!”</p><p>“Hey,” Julian mumbles, although he adds, “... you’re probably right.”</p><p>Still under Julian’s guise, the Devil gives a malicious smirk that would make the most experienced actor cry from envy. “If you try anything, the second I step beyond the barrier, you’ll wish you never came here, magician. I’ll find you and your precious pet, and as an added measure wipe out everyone you hold most dear.”</p><p>“I’ll take that chance. Ilya?”</p><p>Julian nods. His confidence has returned with the Devil at last at their feet. “Should we restrain him?”</p><p>“Do we have more rope?”</p><p>“Ohoho, we <em>always</em> have more rope.”</p><p>Asra sets aside the footstool (not before flashing the Devil with a withering glare) and strides around the bed to the chest of drawers, where he withdraws the familiar rope. “Why do you have so much rope, Ilya?” he inquires. “It seems to be never ending.”</p><p>“Doesn’t it? That and the drinks… they appear at my every whim and never run out. I suppose the Devil was hoping I’d drink myself into suicide.”</p><p>Both of them look at the Devil for confirmation, and the Devil just rolls his eyes. “Hanged man,” he mutters. “It’s very on brand for you.”</p><p>“Oh, dear, he’s got a point.”</p><p>Even Asra has to admit, that’s very on brand, but he still shakes his head at Julian. “We’ll tie him up and leave him up here. It shouldn’t take me very long at all to break the chains on the building, so once I’m done, we’ll have to be quick about leaving.”</p><p>With the Devil bleeding out onto the floor, it doesn’t take much strength at all to hoist him up and tug the rope tight around him. He retains Julian’s feathery appearance. Perhaps he really isn’t as powerful in here as Asra thought he might be. It’s so strange, having two Julians at once, and Asra’s Julian is the one who has to encourage him to pull the ropes tighter, to the point that they dig into the Devil’s skin. Asra ties him to the bedpost where he was tied up just a few minutes ago. “Just you wait,” the Devil spits. “I’ll get both of you for this. You can’t hide from me. Once I absorb enough power from outside this damn tavern, I’ll break out, and--”</p><p>“You lost. Get over it. Come on, Ilya, let’s get out of here.” Asra hooks Julian’s claws between his fingers and leads him back down the stairs.</p><p>But as soon as they’re at the foot of the stairs, Julian doubles over, wheezing. Asra tries to hold him up. “Ilya? Are you alright?”</p><p>“Mmph-- fuck--”</p><p>Asra gets down on his knees. He’s horrified to discover that the Devil isn’t the only one covered in wounds. In the excitement, he hadn’t even realized that there are bloody claw marks striping Julian’s chest, and his feathers have been given the same patchy treatment. “Oh-- oh, Gods, dear heart--”</p><p>“Not here,” Julian whispers. “He’s listening”</p><p>Asra glances up the stairs and he nods in agreement. He allows Julian to lean on him all the way to the tavern threshold, at which point Julian stops, sinking to the floor. “Will you be alright?” Asra murmurs.</p><p>“Yes, of course. Just, ah, hurry up, if you don't mind.”</p><p>“Don’t fight the Devil in the meantime. Call for me and I’ll listen, my love.” Asra releases his hand with some hesitancy and steps back out into the swamp.</p><p>But… there are no more chains. He orbits the tavern, confused. He was just out here, and while he had made a bit of progress, he was nowhere near close to breaking all of the chains, was he? Asra runs his fingers along the wall closest to him. Nothing meets his skin except for worn splinter-ridden wood. He furrows his brow and trots back to the door, to open and shout inside. “Ilya! They’re all gone!”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“The chains are all gone! I think you can come out!”</p><p>Julian rushes to the threshold, disbelieving. He glances around the swamp outside the tavern. “I… don’t understand,” he says. “I haven’t been able to leave ever since I came here. There should be chains. That’s how the Devil works, that’s what you told me.”</p><p>Asra offers his hand to take, which Julian does, albeit haltingly. “Try it,” Asra replies.</p><p>Julian takes such a deep breath, it shakes his feathers out a little. He takes a step and--</p><p>His foot meets the mossy ground. Julian winces at the feeling, waiting to be stopped by something, and yet nothing happens. He shudders and tests his luck with his other foot. </p><p>“I’m… free,” he whispers.</p><p>“You’re free! You really are!” Asra closes the tavern door behind him. All at once, the entire building creaks and groans where it stands. The couple backs away and watches as the walls cave in on themselves, the windows shatter, the roof collapses under its own weight, all in a series of crashes and clouds of dust. The Rowdy Raven is nothing more than a pile of rubble. “Oh-- um, sorry. I didn’t know that would happen.”</p><p>“Don’t be sorry. I’ve had more than enough of that place.” To prove it, Julian kicks a stray shingle away. “Well now… I suppose we should get a move on before the Devil digs himself out of the place, yes?”</p><p>A smile creeps onto Asra’s face. His heart is lighter than he can ever remember it being. The sickly red swamp does not look daunting any longer, not with Julian by his side, and not even the prospect of their journey ahead scares him. Everything will turn out alright in the end. He squeezes Julian’s scaly fingers in his own. “I suppose we should, my love.”</p><p>And they walk, together, towards home.</p>
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